And I Will Let You Down
by castiel-the-pizza-man
Summary: After Dean starts having nightmares, the Winchesters set out on a search for Castiel who has been missing for some time. Once they find the angel, they are surprised by the state he is in and hope they can help him back to who he was before. Rated M for a reason!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M  
**Warning:** hurt!cas, consent issues, language, and some others**  
**

A/N: This is my first Supernatural story, especially with the pairing of Dean/Castiel. I'll admit, I listened to the song, 'I am Human' by the Brian Buckley Band all the while typing this. It will the be the first of multiple chapters. So enjoy, hopefully. Next chapter will be up next Monday! Oh, and reviews are greatly appreciated, I want to know where I'm going wrong and such.

And I Will Let You Down

Pain, intense pain. It caused Dean's eyes to rip wide open, but the only sight that greeted him back was the dark ceiling of the motel room. His body was slick with sweat and he was trying to get his breathing back to a normal tempo. The dream he had felt so vivid and real that Dean's mind was trying to fit all the pieces back together, a sick twisting of his stomach appearing every time a memory or feeling returned to him. Gingerly, almost as if the Winchester was in pain, he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. Consciousness had evaded him and he had fallen asleep before he could get under the covers, and still fully clothed from the day before. The movement of his body had waken up his brother, the noise unaccustomed in their quiet room.

"Dean?" Sam asked groggily, slowly pushing himself up off the bed to rest on his elbows. "Are you alright?" Dean heard the anxiety in his brother's voice and knew the underlying meaning of the question. Nightmares of Hell plagued him constantly, but since he had admitted what had happened to him thereto Sam, and since Castiel had attempted to ease his sleep, he had been doing better. But spending the majority of his life there was not something that could be easily cured. Forty years had left their imprint on the hunter, and not in the way that he wanted. Try as he might, there was nothing he could do to run away from the massacred and bloody past he had. The screams of the people that he had tortured, with a smile on his face would wake him. But not tonight. Tonight he woke for a different reason.

"No, no… Sammy. Just, go back to sleep." Dean said. Resting his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes violently, almost as if the nightmare could be forced out of his mind. '_Cas. What the Hell?'_ Dean thought, a small shudder going through his body as he remembered the blood.

The shuddered did not go unnoticed by Sam, and he ignored what Dean had told him, instead, pushing himself up, fixing the t-shirt that had ridden up his back in his sleep. "Dean. What's going on?" The thin line Sam knew he was walking only cracked and broke as Dean looked up sharply. In the soft light filtering from the streetlights outside the window only accentuated the fear and confusion on Dean's face. As much as Dean appreciated his brother's care, this was the last thing he needed, and as Sam called his name again, Dean turned away, pain on his face. "Dean." Sam said, sitting on his bed so that he and Dean were facing each other.

Suddenly his dream flashed back to him. And instead of Sam's lips calling out his name, it was Castiel's. His light pink lips, smeared with blood, but forming the syllables of his name, but nothing came out but an agonizing scream. Castiel's bright blue eyes filled with terror, contrasting with a dark blue bruise forming on the side of his face before he closed his eyes and the nightmare stopped.

"It's…. It's Cas." Dean finally got out, feeling a headache starting just behind his eyes. "He's hurting." In reality, that was an impossible statement, Castiel was, after all, an angel and there was practically nothing that could hurt him.

"Cas?" Sam repeated, confusion crossing his face as well. The angel had not been around for a long time, almost four months, and that had hindered their progress greatly, but they assumed there was other more important things he was dealing with. He had made it very clear last time, that the Winchester's problems was not his own as much as he would prefer to be on Earth with them, helping. "What happened?" As much as Sam was sure this nightmare was nothing, he figured that if it was bad enough to wake Dean from his sleep, it should be something they talk about. Dean had always been there for Sam, always trying to do what was best for his younger brother, and Sam was trying to repay Dean the best he could, even if it meant little things like this.

Dean shook his head, his hand moving in a slow, methodical circle where he felt the headache beginning. Standing, he left the edge of his bed, almost tripping over Sam's shoes which had been discarded in the middle of the room, and opened the small fridge, grabbing out a beer. Ignoring the looks that Sam threw at Dean as he took his first swing. Who cares that it was three in the morning, after that experience, he needed a beer. Something stronger would have been preferred, but this was all they had. After swallowing, Dean kept on looking at the wall, not meeting his brother's eyes. "It's all fuzzy." Dean lied, remembering the crystal clear memory as if he had been there. "There were wards all over the walls, and Cas, he was hurting, his eyes…. There was so much blood, Sammy." Dean whispered, the bright blue eyes, filled with terror flashed across his vision, along with another throb from his headache. The bottle in his had shook slightly, so the man pressed it to his lips, taking another long gulp of it. In his mind he was cursing himself, trying to pull himself together. He couldn't do this, especially not in front of Sam.

Finally, Dean turned to see Sam watching him carefully, the filtered light from the curtains cast a glint across the younger man's eyes, making him look sharper than he was in his sleepy state. "That doesn't sound too good…." Sam murmured, his eyes taking in Dean's defeated stance. This seemed like a nightmare that would not go away with time. "How about we summon him?" That would put Dean's worry at rest, especially when Castiel would show up fine, but annoyed that they dragged him away from something important.

But that suggestion only brought a small scoff from Dean's lips and was soon suppressed by the bottle. "He hasn't come the last times we've called him. What makes you think he will come now?" The tone he had asked that in didn't mean to sound so harsh and a wave of guilt flashed through him as he saw a look of shock across his brother's face. Dean understood that Sam was just trying to help, and he should not be angered at his brother for problems that were completely his own.

With a small, exasperated sigh, Sam pushed the covers off himself and stood, heading over to his duffel bag located at the foot of his bed. "We should at least try, Dean. If not to put this to rest, but to see how Cas is doing." But Sam was not going to add what could happen if Castiel did not show up. After all, four month was a long time not to show up. Sam pulled out a pair of jeans and shoved them on over his boxer before he ran a hand through his messy hand. It was then that Dean noticed how much Sam had grown. He was not the same twenty-two year old he had asked for help from in the many years previous. After all they had been through, and as much as Dean wished for it, he knew they could never return to who they were before. Everything had changed so much, time had changed them, and it made it impossible to even remember how it had been before.

As Sam zipped his bag back up, Dean took another sip of his beer and put it on the counter before he stepped towards Sam. "Want me to do it?" Dean asked, a small pause in his voice. Sam nodded and turned to face Dean and watched as his brother spread his arms in a mock gesture, his palms flat and facing upwards. "Hey Castiel, we need to talk to you. You know, just about stuff. It's important, I swear…." Dean said, closing his eyes and feeling the lame prayer pass between his lips. Silence greeted them. "Cas?" Dean said in a voice gruffer than his own. "Come on, Cas." Silence still surrounded them and Dean opened his eyes to see Sam staring at him, holding his breath. It was then that Dean realized he was holding his own as well. Dean dropped his hands and sighed. "Well, that was a waste." Dean growled, turning to walk away from Sam and back to his beer.

A sharp pain exploded in his skull, the headache doubling in pain. '_No. Don't. Please.'_ Castiel's deep voice yelled out in a panic, his body hunched against a wall. Dean groaned, his knees weakening some and causing him to crouch down in pain. "Dean?" Sam said, grabbing his shoulder to help him stand up right.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a headache." Dean said, reaching for the bottle and placing it to his lips where he took a couple of large gulps. Slightly annoyed, he shrugged Sam's hand off his shoulder and reached up to wipe the sweat that had beaded on his forehead from the incident. It was unpleasant and something he didn't want to occur again. Before Sam could ask another question a flutter of wings could be heard in the room and with some surprise the Winchesters whirled around expectantly.

What greeted them was not what they thought would be there. A young woman, with straight blonde hair and bright hazel eyes that were almost covered by her bangs greeted them. Her bright pink lips were pulled into a worried frown and her hands were twitching at her sides as if they had a desire to do something. Within an instant, Sam grabbed the shotgun that was leaning against the edge of his bed. The Angel knife was stated away in his duffel bag and he cursed at himself in hindsight. Dean reached for his knife, but before he could, another wave of pain radiated through him. A naked figure, his arms chained and held above him as he dangled, his toes barely touching the ground. His body was smeared with blood, open wounds dripping the red substance as it dropped and pooled on the ground underneath him. Dean could only guess who the figure was, until it groaned in slight pain, and it's blue eyes opened and looked up, almost as if he was staring right at Dean.

"Cas!" Dean heard him yell as his mind refocused to find himself on his hands and knees staring at the filthy carpet of the motel. His body was shaking and he felt the need to throw up what little beer he had drank. He felt Sam's hand under his arm as he was pulled up into a standing position, eyes focusing on the woman in the room.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, raising the shotgun to point at her chest. They both knew that the gun would not make a difference to an angel, but perhaps it conveyed the message and it would give them enough time to get to the Angel knife.

But the woman wasn't looking at the shotgun, instead she as surveying Dean, and it almost seemed as if the frown had lessen slightly. Under her surveillance, Dean turned to grab his knife off the counter. Ignoring Sam's question, she asked. "What did you see?" That caught the Winchesters off guard as they turned to look at each other before their eyes returned to the angel who was mindlessly flipping through a book that had been left open on Sam's bed. When she noticed that neither of them felt like talking to her or giving her answers she closed the book a little rougher than necessary. "I am Isfahar. I have been searching for you two for a while, if it was not for your prayer to Castiel, I doubt I would have found you." She said, her hazel eyes flicking to either face as she reached up and pushed some of her bangs out of her eyes. Seeing their faces, her frown deepened. "You must understand, I mean you no harm."

A small scoff came from Dean, "And how are we supposed to trust you?"

Isfahar nodded almost in agreement, "You are human. Sometimes I feel like Castiel raises you above other." Her frown stayed, but it almost seemed as if her eyes were laughing in merriment.

"You… you know Cas?" Dean asked, "Is he okay? Where has he been?" He felt his heart rate increase, and the worry almost seemed to lighten and slip from his shoulders.

"Of course. I fight alongside him." What seemed like pride crossed her face before she turned and appeared behind the boys, looking at some of the papers on the table. It was a recent case they were working on, but it seemed to be a dead end at the moment. Which had caused Sam to delve into his research and Dean to take his emotions out on alcohol, sleep, and women. As her hand ghosted above a paper with symbols on it, she turned to the Winchesters and shook her head. "But I fear he is not okay. He had been gone for a while, even in Heaven where time passes faster than it does on Earth. He has not been seen for a while. Last I knew, he went to meet with Raphael, and we were sure everything would go fine. But the other angels who went with Castiel are dead. It seems as if there were extra precautions taken by the archangel. I only hope that Raphael has not been dealing with…." Isfahar glanced up at the two men and raised an eyebrow. "Well, anything." As if to convey a meaning.

The information that she had given them seemed to wash over them and even Sam's stony stance seemed to droop at the news. But they had turned with her and kept their weapons raised. "What does that mean?" Sam questioned, glancing at Dean to see if he was alright. But for Dean, just the memories of his nightmare resided behind his eyes.

"It means." Isfahar murmured, "That we have no knowledge of where Castiel is nor what is happening to him." The words seemed to hit the men with such force that they lowered their weapons, letting them hang by their sides. "I take great risks coming here." In an instant, Isfahar was standing in front of Dean, her eyes searching his brooding face. "But I only had one choice left. Castiel only had a connection with one person." She reached up and Dean instinctively pulled back, but she had grabbed his arm in a tight grip before he was able to get away from her. The humans watched as she pushed up the sleeve of Dean's t-shirt, revealing the burned handprint of Castiel. Isfahar glanced at it for a few seconds before she raised her palm, which glowed with a white light and placed it on the handprint.

Suddenly emotions washed through him, pain, suffering, defeat. Falling to the ground seemed easy, what came next was not.

G_ray walls stared at him, each painted with a different symbol, but Dean knew they were all for him, all for Cas. His body ached, pain rippled through at every movement, and blood was drying on his skin. He could feel presences with in him. One, forced to sleep, and the other contained, his grace being held and compacted, small enough to make him a human, and if it was released he could continue being the angel he was. A noise could be heard and he looked up through blood soaked hair at the three people coming in. Their eyes filled with black and a small shudder went through the body, even after everything he could still feel hatred and despise these unholy abominations in his presence. 'Castiel….' One murmured, reaching out to touch the side of his face. The skin under the hand crawled with disgust. 'Let us see how we can break you today.' It whispered into his ear, almost as if it was whispering sweet words to a lover. A desire to smite these beings rose up within the body, before a sense of defeat surpassed it. He had no power, he was barely a human in here and these demons were taking advantage of that. He closed his eyes not wanting to see the leering faces before he felt a sharp pain on his cheek. _

Dean howled in pain, reaching up as if he felt like his cheek was slashed in two. Fear was wild in his eyes and his body shook, sweat dripping down his face, off the bridge of his nose to land on the carpet beneath him. But he did not notice any of it nor did he feel it. His mind was consumed by what _he_ was seeing, but what _he_ was feeling.

'_Look at me, you ignorant fool. We have you. Just give up already!' The menace in the voice was undeniable, hatred flowing through it's voice. But it seemed like the body did not hesitate when it's eyes flared open, taking in the scene around him. _

_'No.' Castiel's voice growled right back, matching the hatred in his voice. Even though his cheek had been slashed through, the words came out clear and concise. _

_'No?' The demon asked back, before he smiled. 'We shall see about that.' It said before reaching up and letting the cuffs around Castiel's hand go. The body fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, pain resonating through every cell of his body. Old wounds split open and the sickly feeling of blood spreading over his body, they had pushed the physical limits of his vessel as far as it could go, but they were trying to find ways around it. 'Get up.' The demon growled, nudging the still body with his leather shoes. 'Now.' Whether the body was disobeying the order or just physically couldn't was beyond Dean's knowledge. A second demon moved foreword and pulled the figure onto his hands and knees, not before a swift kick to the side, resulting in a loud crack and a small whimper. _

_The second demon moved away as they surveyed him on his hands an knees. 'Now, Castiel, are we going to have to go through this again?' The demon asked, and the view changed from the gray cement under his broken and bleeding hands to look at the demon. The look of pure enjoyment and pleasure was on the demons face as it reached down and began undoing its belt. No matter what, the demon was going to go through with it again even if he finally gave in. This act gave the demons too much pleasure, and Dean was enveloped in darkness as his eyes were closed. There was the tell-tale sign of a zipper being undone, followed closely by a second one. Eyes opened frantically as they glanced around widely, seeing one of the demons station himself in from of him, and his eyes focused on the penis, hard and erect, barely a few inches in front of him, turning he saw the first demon stationed behind him, is hand resting lightly on the small of his back, and he knew what was going to happen there, causing his body to clench in fear and reluctance. Then his eyes strayed to the third demon, holding a knife in his hands, a sick smile on his face. They all were ready, the smiles on their faces giving an evil meaning to the world. The third demon came forward and stabbed the knife into the body's side, between two ribs. A shriek of pain echoed through the gray room, before it was muffled by something warm being slid into his mouth and a burning sensation of pain on his backside as he was forced open. Then, everything went black._

The noise of talking hit his muffled ears, still ringing from the yell of pain. "Dean? Dean? What did you do to him?" There was an uncomfortable pressure on his chest and he reached up with one hand to bat it away. The pressure gave up slightly, but it was still there and Dean forced open his eyes to see Sam kneeling next to him, a hand on Dean's chest and the other close to Dean's ear.

Pushing Sam off him and sat up checking his side to make sure the knife had not gone into his ribs. Once he was sure that his skin was intact, even if the remembrance of the pain lingered underneath his skin, Dean's hand moved, rubbing his head where it had connected with the floor. "I'm alright, Sammy." Dean muttered, hating that he saw worry on his brother's face. "Just went for a nice trip somewhere." Dean growled, looking up at Isfahar. "What the fuck was that?" Dean growled, wanting to stand up, but his body was shaking too much for that.

A small smile pressed the corner of Isfahar's lips in a smile. "So you did connect with Castiel. Good. What did you see?" She asked, balancing on the balls of her feet as she kneeled down next to Dean.

But instead of returning her small smile, he became enraged, remembering what Castiel was going through. "I would kill you right now if I had the chance. Friend of Cas' or not." The threat in Dean's voice made her blink in surprise for a moment before she returned to her stoic face.

"I could care less about how feel about me, Dean Winchester. The armies of Heaven need a leader, and that just so happens to be your guardian angel, Castiel." Isfahar stated plainly, leaning closer to Dean, their faces barely inches a part. "What did you see?"

Dean could not control himself anymore. "Fuck you and fuck your Heaven. You leave right now, and don't you ever come back." Dean growled as he pushed himself away from her and up on shaking legs. He turned and grabbed his beer off the floor where it had fallen and spilled all over the carpet. It was solid in his hands and he held it, ready to hit her with it, even though it would do no good.

"Dean, Dean, Dean." Isfahar stood. Even though the vessel she was in barely stood to Dean's shoulder, her presence was large and the room seems to come alive with her power. "You're letting your emotions get control of yourself. If I did not know any better I would say that you like-"

But Dean cut her off, "Go to Hell." The words dripped with venom, and he turned and slammed the bottle onto the counter.

"No place I'll ever be going." Isfahar's voice floated around to him. "But from what I've learned, the experience is not very… pleasant." Dean's hand squeezed the bottle, attempting to keep off the memories that were ever lurking on the edge of his mind. With a small furry of wings the room was silent and the pulsing power had left. She must have assumed she would not get anything out of Dean. He could feel Sam's eyes on the back of his head, but he needed a few seconds to regain his composure before he was going to to face Sam.

Without warning, the fear that he had felt when he was looking out of Castiel's eyes washed over him and Dean knocked the bottle off the counter in a hurry to get to the bathroom and heave up whatever was in his stomach. Even after everything was gone, he dry heaved into the toilet, feeling the burn of the acid in his throat and mouth. Sam had reached in and closed the door behind Dean, obviously waiting for Dean to prepare himself to talk to him. But this was something Dean knew he would try to avoid. He had felt like he was in Castiel, as if Castiel was his vessel. "Oh Cas…." Dean whispered as his forehead rested against his arm, his face still pointed in the direction of the toilet for fear of more throwing up. But for now, everything seemed to be calm. As much as he did not want to, Dean thought through everything that he had seen, trying to gleam more knowledge about where Castiel was being held. But nothing he heard nor saw gave him any clues.

After some time had passed, Dean assumed that Sam was getting worried about him, and he stood, feeling some strength return to his limbs as he opened the door to a flood of light. Sam had turned on the overhead light and was sitting on his bed with his duffel bag next to him. "Where to?" Sam asked as he stood and shouldered the bag over his shoulder. Dean glanced around the room and saw that Sam had also packed for him and Dean grabbed his bag and snatched the keys off the bedside table.

He played with keys, letting them fall between his fingers before he glanced up at Sam. "I don't actually know." It was an uncomfortable feeling, especially since he knew what Castiel was going through.

Sam stared at him with a pensive look before he shrugged and headed out the door. Even if they did not know where to go, they had to get away from this room. Isfahar knew they had stayed here and that was dangerous. Plus, both of them knew they would feel better on the road than anywhere else. "What do you know?" Sam asked, as Dean closed the door of the motel behind them.

Dean strode ahead of Sam, not wanting to see him, but that posed a problem when they came to the Impala and Dean was forced to look at Sam while he got into the passenger seat. "I know we gotta find him soon." Dean said, leaving it at that before he slid into the drivers side and placed the key into the ignition. The car rumbled alive, and Dean did not hesitate to peel out of the parking lot and onto the road, heading in whatever direction he could.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M  
**Warning:** hurt!cas, angel whumpage, consent issues, language, sexual content, and violence.

**A/N:** Chapter two is coming out a day early! Woo. This is due to the fact that I start classes tomorrow. Enjoy =] It originally was going to be a much longer chapter, but I felt like too much happened in one chapter and no one would want to read all that. So I was able to split it into two chapters. Next chapter will be up either Sunday or Monday.

If you find anything wrong, please, feel free to inform me!

Again, I listened to "I am Human" by the Brian Buckley Band while writing this. I do not own anything of Supernatural. I just like causing people pain, =] myself included!

Chapter Two

Days turned into weeks, and Sam and Dean had exhausted every possible lead they could find. Both became angry and agitated, at each other or anything around them, Dean more so than Sam, who had the ability to hide his anger better. Dean ended up throwing his phone across the motel room when Bobby called to tell him that the lead they had gave him turned out to be a dead end, digging as far as he could before all possible options were exhausted. Sam watched his older brother with wary eyes as Dean stalked to the chair and grabbed his coat, shoving his arms into the sleeves and headed to the door.

"Where are you-" Sam started only to be interrupted by Dean.

"Out." It was the most reasonable explanation, especially since he was not sure where he was going to go in the first place. It had been six weeks since the meeting with Isfahar and Dean could only guess how Castiel was fairing. His random wandering in the snow-covered street led him to a bar near downtown, and deciding there was nothing better for him to do, he entered the building and headed straight for the empty bar stool at the counter. Once he sat down he was almost instantly greeted by a bartender who smiled at him. "Anything strong." Dean said before she could ask him. There was a small questioning look on her face before she grabbed a glass and reached under the bar, pulling up a bottle and pouring it into the glass before sliding it over.

"Rough night?" She asked, placing the bottle back underneath the counter before Dean stopped her.

"Rough life. Leave the bottle." She glanced at him oddly, before she shrugged and left the bottle on the table. Dean tossed back the first one, feeling the burning liquid go down his throat and spread through his body. He gasped at the sensation, and then poured himself another one. Kicking it back just as easily as he did the first one.

Just as Dean was about the drink his third one a soft voice on his left called. "Easy, tiger, you might want to enjoy those." Dean turned to see the brunette that was speaking to him. She laughed as their eyes met, and she leaned forward, letting his see some of her cleavage down her low cut red dress. Noticing where he was looking, his eyes glanced up from her breasts to her face.

"But there are so many other things to enjoy." Dean finally replied, turning his body in her direction so she could see he was open to talking. He raised the bottle slightly, as if offering her a drink and she nods. Getting another glass, he pours her a drink, passing it over to her before he and holds his up. "Cheers." Dean laughs, tipping his head back and swallowing it all.

She smiles at him, "Cheers." Once she finishes her shot she laughs at the burn that goes down her throat, wrinkling her nose in a way that Dean thought was cute. "Zo."

"Dean."

"Nice to meet you, Dean." Zo replied, and Dean couldn't help but noticed how her lips formed around his name and he tried to push back the image of Casitel's bloody lips forming his name as well. When she realized he did not have anything to reply with, she asked, "So what brings you to a bar on this lovely night?"

Dean chuckled as he poured himself another shot. "Life and all the lovely things that come with it." Sarcasm poured from the words and it did not go unnoticed by the woman on his left. He looked down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid around. He could tell her the truth, the whole truth. But she would never believe him, so it was better to keep it in, slap a smile on his face and pretend that everything was alright, when in fact, it was all crumbling and there was nothing Dean could do to fix it. So he just let it. He let everything feel like it was falling away and that someday he would just slip away as well. Noting left but the outer shell of a person he used to be. Dean lifted up the shot and drank it down. '_This one's for you, Cas.'_ Even though Dean felt like he was losing everything, Castiel had always been there to be an anchor. The angel could read him, read his soul, and was always trying to help. But now, even Castiel was gone and Dean did not know how to fix that. As much as Castiel had been there for him, Dean was failing at being there for Castiel. So all he could do was left himself fall, let himself slip away.

Zo raised her glass, "I'll drink to that." She joked, taking a sip of her mixed drink before she glanced around, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Aw, fuck this." Dean swore, and that drew Zo's attention, and Dean leaned forward, pressing his lips against her in hurry and desire. She stiffened at that action, but then leaned into him and returned the gesture. Their lips molding together as he placed a hand lightly on her knee, feeling a small moan vibrate between their lips. She opened her mouth and Dean took it as permission and he slipped his tongue in-between her lips, exploring her mouth and feeling her tongue softly ticking the side of his.

Their breathing was becoming short and she pushed him away, and he instantly missed the warm feeling on her lips. She giggled as she slipped off the bar stool and grabbed his hand, leading him out the door of the bar and weaved through the parking lot. The snow crunched under their shoes as she approached a car, unlocked it and got into the back seat. Dean followed after her, closing the door and crawling on top of Zo. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and returning to the kiss they were sharing previously. Her legs were on either side of him and he could feel himself getting aroused at that. One hand trailed up her thigh, pushing the dress up around her waist. A small gasp escaped her lips and Dean moved away to bite at her neck, feeling the soft skin under his lips. Arching her neck back, Zo let him kiss the skin just above her collarbone, reaching her hands under his shirt, trailing her fingers along his soft skin, admiring the hard muscles underneath from the long hears of hunting. With longing he pushed his hips against Zo and felt the pressure against his erection, letting out a small hiss of pleasure. He had not been with a woman in a long time, never finding that he had the desire to, but now it was different. It was as if this woman could make him forget. Forget everything. Hurried hands pulled at his belt, trying to get it off as they gasped and moved against each other. Everytime Zo moved her hips to press against his erection, a small moan escaped his lips. Once Dean got his belt off he unbuttoned his pants and zipped down the fly.

A huge flash of pain crossed his mind and Dean almost collapsed forward, stopping himself just in time before he fell upon Zo.

_Fear, pain. Disgust. Not in those who were torturing him. But in himself. 'That's right, Castiel. Beg for it. Moan.' The voice seemed to come from behind him. A sharp pain crossed his shoulder and neck, ending just above his left nipple, accompanied by the sound of the crack of a whip. The pain seemed to numb before it stung, but it did not match the whirl of emotions. 'Moan. Castiel. Moan.' The voice demanded. And a low humming came from deep inside, vibrating the vocal chords as a moan escaped the chapped lips. _

A small knocking on the window brought Dean back to reality, not the worried voice beneath him. Dean focused, seeing Zo watching him, her hands on both sides of his face as she looked up at him in confusion. There was another knock on the window and Dean looked up, a swear escaping his lips as he saw Isfahar standing on the other side. Pushing back, Dean got out of the car as gracefully as he could, feeling uncomfortable with his pants hanging open.

"This better be good. I was just about to fuck." His harsh language seemed not to faze the angel and she looked at Dean almost pitifully.

"Copulation of humans is almost sad. There is no love, just lust." Dean turned away, not needing a lesson of sex from an angel of the Lord. "You have not found Castiel yet." Isfahar said, and her voice was tinged with worry.

Dean chuckled, feeling the alcohol had gone to his mind. "No shit, Sherlock." He raised his hand to the side of his head, feeling a throb of pain.

"But you… saw something. Right?" Isfahar asked. Her voice returning to it's cold, unemotional tone.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Why do you care so much? He your angelic boyfriend?"

Isfahar almost bristled with indignation. "No." She said, with too much vehemence. "He is the leader. We are… close. And I care deeply about him." Dean leaned in, and she looked away.

"You like him." Dean figured out, and a small amount of anger flamed up inside him.

Isfahar's eyes burned as she looked at Dean and stepped closer to him. "What I am saying is I want him back just as much as you do."

Surprised by how much emotion she was showing Dean stepped back, feeling his back press against the car. "Well, I'll tell you what I saw. Your boyfriend getting fucked by a demon and moaning." Dean couldn't help but feel triumphant as a flash of surprise crossed her face, but then the triumph was replaced by his own jealousy. As soon as the emotion had crossed she was gone, the flutter of wings the only thing that told him she was ever there.

"Dean?" A voice called out, and he turned to see Zo leaning out of an open door. The hunter froze there for a second, unsure of what to do. His erection had long left him and after what he had seen with Castiel, Dean was not sure he wanted to take the chance.

"I gotta go…." Dean said, cursing himself in his mind for yet another failed attempt at having sex. He did not even wait to hear her protests nor see the look on her face as he turned and began walking in the direction of the motel, zipping up his jeans and fixing his belt as he went. '_I didn't even pay my tab….'_ Dean thought, but he knew he would never visit that bar again. There was a slight stagger in his walk due to intoxication, but he wanted to get back to the motel room. To sleep, if nothing else.

Not much time had passed since Dean had left Zo in the parking lot and he stumbled through the door of the motel room, causing Sam to look up in alarm from his computer and close it quickly. "Jesus, Sammy." Dean muttered, turning away from his brother at the table and heading towards his bed, diving onto it with a contented sigh. The headache that he had gotten did not seem like it was going away anytime soon and Dean could only hope that sleep would wear it away.

"You're back early." Sam commented, opening his laptop and changing the web page to something else.

Dean snorted, opening his eyes to look at his brother. "Yeah too early, apparently. Busty Asian Beauties?" A small laugh came from his lips, his words came out mumbled since his face was pushed into the comforter.

A guilty look crossed Sam's face at Dean's suggestion that he was looking at porn. "No." Sam rebuked, "What happened to you?" Sam gestured, noticing that Dan did not look up to par.

"Isfahar happened. Just popping up, almost as bad as Cas, but at least he was welcome. Thought I was going to get a lesson on the sins of pleasure." Dean closed his eyes after that, feeling the throb from his headache behind his eyes. Perhaps some darkness would cool it.

Sam just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. At least Dean was getting better if he was with a woman, Sam had begun to grow worried when Dean turned down women who approached him. "Why was she there in the first place?"

Dean shrugged, kicking off his shoes and hearing them hit the ground before he began to twist his body to get his jacket off. The hunter had no wish to sleep fully clothed tonight. "Beats me. Whatever angels want from lowly humans like ourselves." Sarcasm. It wasn't good, but at least it was a start to get himself back on track. Dean moved his hands down to his jeans and remembered what he had seen when he unzipped them. Fearing for the worst Dean ignored the zipper and just pushed them off his hips, feeling them catch on his boxers and almost drag them off before Dean could pull them back up to where they belong.

"Why don't you just take your pants off the proper way?" Sam scolded, before he turned his eyes away from his undressing brother to his laptop screen. "I think I've found a case not too far from here." The sharp look from his brother did not go unnoticed by Sam. They had been picking up small cases here and there while trying to find Castiel, but Dean never liked it, preferring to spend all his energy on finding Castiel. "Some disappearances in a small town in Oregon. Baker City. A man chopped his wife up in little pieces."

"Just sounds like demons to me." Dean replied, pulling the covers back from the bed and crawling in. "Nothing serious."

Sam bit his tongue, but he couldn't hold it back. " We've been looking for six weeks and come up empty-handed. I think it's time to move on and help who we can. This is important."

"Cas is important. And we won't give up on him, just like he never gave up on us. He went to Hell for me. He rebelled for me. He's done everything for us. And if you think I'm going to give up on him when he needs us the most then you're wrong." Dan growled back, enjoying the startled look on Sam's face at his anger. But the enjoyment faded to a sense of dread before he rolled over, facing his back towards Sam. It had been too long and Dean was not even sure Castiel was still alive until the flash he had today. '_Don't worry, Cas, I'll find you. I swear I will.'_ Dean thought, squeezing his eyes closed. Inside his heart ached, Castiel was like a brother to him, and he felt like he was looking the angel. A big hole in his heart where Castiel should be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PG  
**Warnings:** None I can really think of for this chapter**  
**

**A/N:** Again, posting on Sunday since I'm going to help move my best friend into college tomorrow!

I hope you like this chapter, it was a pain to write, but I needed to move the story along. Yay for filler chapters. I have to say the next two chapters in this story were my favorite to write. And spoiler: Castiel will make an appearance next chapter!

Thank you for reading! And feel free to tell me where I'm going wrong! I'll post again next Sunday!

Chapter Three

Even though Dean was against driving from Seattle to Baker City, Sam had convinced him that a hunt would do them some good, get their minds off some things and help them re-orient and re-focus their priorities. Dean was not sure as to what his brother was getting at, but Sam seemed excited to get away from the dean end with Castiel, he knew he couldn't deny Sam this. The younger Winchester was in the passenger seat, looking over some of the papers he had gotten from the library. Instead of going over Snoqualmie pass, (since Dean feared for his Baby's safety), they opted to go through Portland, stopping at VooDoo Doughnuts on the way. It was rainy and dreary like always on the West coast, but they trudged through it, slightly happier with the doughnuts that made the Impala smell like a sweet, candy factory. "Hey, hand me one of the bacon maple bars." Dean asked Sam as he changed lanes and passed Multonomah falls, taking the doughnut Sam passed to him and bit into it. A soft moan of enjoyment vibrated his vocal chords and Sam stared over at him in bewilderment. "Man, these things are so good. It's like the salty bacon mixed with the sugary frosting making an explosion in my mouth."

With a scoff, Sam replied, "Okay then." And with a quick raise of his eyebrows he returned to reading the papers in front of him. "Nothing so special about Baker. Just that the Oregon trail went through there. But all in all, it just seems like a regular town."

"So you mean boring." Dean stated as he glanced out his rearview mirror.

That brought a small smile to Sam's face as he placed the papers back into his lap. "Yeah, I mean boring." Silence filled the car and the only noise was the soft rock music floating through the speakers and Dean's fingers tapping along with the beat. "Hey, when are we going to talk about it?"

Dean's eyes flickered over to Sam before they returned to the road ahead. "Talk about what?" Dean asked, making his voice sound like he did not have a clue of what Sam was implying.

"Talk about Cas and what's happening. You need to get it out." Sam finally turned to face Dean, figuring that now was a good time to talk, since Dean had no where to escape to.

But in response, the elder brother just shrugged, "I really don't want to talk about it, Sammy." And that was true. He preferred to keep it inside, let it boil and eat him up before he would talk about it. "I just…. I just should have been there, you know?" Dean whispered, finally realizing the guilt that pressed down on his shoulders. But even with this realization, the guilt did not lift, instead, it seemed to press down harder, almost as if it was suffocating him. His green eyes focused on the road ahead, barely noticing the landscape passing them by, the flat plains of Oregon on one side of the river while the rolling hills of Washington continued on the other.

A look of worry flashed across Sam's face as he turned his head away from his brother, leaning his forehead against the window as he murmured, "Alright, Dean, whatever you say." Dean's negative mood had not gone unnoticed by his younger brother. Instead, it only caused Sam to watch Dean more carefully, wishing to help him whenever he needed. But Dean, in turn, had just been pushing Sam farther and farther away, hiding in the reclusive shell he had built for himself.

Seeing Sam's resignation, and the knowledge that he was not going to push Dean anymore, caused the hunter to relax. In his mind he attempted to form the words he would say to Sam, knowing that he would never say them out loud. But then, clearing his throat, the words began to pour out before he could stop them. "I feel exactly like how I felt when I lost you, Sammy, and I hate the feeling. It's not something I wanted to experience, and now that I'm experiencing again…. I'm so worried and I want to fix everything but I don't know how." Not wanting to see Sam's reaction, Dean glanced down at his hands, knuckles white from the grip he had on the wheel, "Fucking inadequate." Dean muttered only for himself, but the car was quiet enough that Sam caught the words.

"We'll find him. I know we will." Sam reassured, purposely advising talking about the amount of time they had been looking for Castiel with out any progress. "Once this hunt is over, we'll start to look again. Some break from the monotonous cycle will do us good."

Dean suppressed a scoff, it felt odd to have Sam reassuring him when usually it was the other way around. "Yeah. Yeah." Dean replied, signaling the end of the conversation. They both listened to the silence between them on the way to Baker City.

* * *

"Alright here we are." Dean said rather loudly after only hearing the soft snores of Sam and the music playing softly through the speakers. He had to admit, he enjoyed when Sam grunted awake in the passenger seat, sleepy and bleary eyed, having only drifted off during the ride.

"I thought we were never going to get here," Sam mumbled, half asleep as he pushed the Impala door open and stumbled out. He finally got a good look of their surroundings. In one direction it was flat as could be, but then the other side of the town seemed to be pressed up against the mountains. There were no trees, only shrubs and tall grass lining the flat ground, but halfway up the mountains some spruce trees grew. "Lovely." Sam muttered before heading around the back to join Dean at the trunk of the car. Still half asleep, Sam watched his brother grab their duffel bags and shove Sam's hard into his chest. Dean grinned with satisfaction at hearing the breath leave Sam body in a small huff, before he headed to the office of the motel, checking into a room and grabbing the keys. He paid with a random credit card he pulled out of his wallet, not paying too much attention to which one it was. Once everything was set, Dean met Sam outside the office and headed down the walkway to room fourteen.

Once they made it to the door, Dean opened it with one of the keys and flicked on the light. They surveyed the room, glancing at the deep blue comforters and tan wall paper. It was filled with Oregon trail memorabilia, including a large picture located on the wall of canvas covered wagons making their way through tall grass, heading towards blue skies and more flat land. Other than that, the men decided it was a pretty decent room, better than some of the ones they had stayed.

"Lovely." Sam repeated. Throwing his duffel bag down at the foot of a bed before he headed towards the bathroom. Dean could hear the water running and he assumed that Sam was washing his face. After the long drive in the car, Dean desired nothing more than to lay down and sleep for a few hours. But that is what his body was always telling him to do. Sleep, everything will be better in the morning. But Dean knew that wasn't the case. The same shit would be facing him in the morning so what was the point in sleeping when it would always be there. Dean place his duffel at the edge of the other bed and unzipped it, bracing himself incase something else happened. But nothing did, so he proceeded to pull out a bottle of whiskey that was half gone. Taking a swig of it just as Sam exited the bathroom, and he couldn't turn away quick enough to notice the look that his younger brother gave him. Instead, he caped the bottle and placed it on the bed stand and turned to sit down on the bed.

"Okay, now what?" Dean asked, whipping his mouth on the back of his hand. He closed his eyes since he knew what Sam was going to say already but he was just waiting, hoping that Sam might say they wait until tomorrow.

"Well, we should go check out the house of the man who cut up his wife. At the moment he's located in the police station."

"Sammy, did it ever occur to you that maybe the guy was just pissed at his wife?" Dean opened his eyes and looked up at his brother who was moving across the room to his bag.

"It did, but then I looked up and there are so many omens around this place. Something's going on here Dean, but I don't know what." Sam's eyes met Deans quickly before they returned to the task at hand.

It took a lot of effort for the elder hunter to stand up, but he finally managed gathering his energy and headed towards the door. "Fine, let's just go look at the dudes house." He did not doubt that Sam was thinking something was going on, but he just wanted to get everything over with. "So why do you think that something is wrong here?" Dean asked as they got into the Impala, leaving the motel room behind them.

Sam ran his hand through his hair before he settled into the seat, a small sigh escaping his lips as his brother started the car and left the motel parking lot, heading towards the house where a brutal murder had been preformed. "It was rumored in some writings that there is a weak area between he Earth and Hell located in this town. It's never been proven though."

That caught Dean's attention as he turned down the historic main street. "So like a Hell gate?" Dean asked, his green eyes turning to glance at his brother.

"I guess something like that. A crack where it's at it's weakest." Sam shrugged, "I'm not sure thought, everything is so vague."

"So a demon might be trying to open it?"

"Yup." Sam answered as Dean pulled up to a curb on a two-story victorian looking house in the better part of the town. Sam opened the door and stepped out of it and onto the curb glancing up and down the street as he did so. No one seemed to be out which would make the whole process of breaking into the crime scene easier. Meeting Dean at the back of the car, he grabbed a sawed off shotgun and a flask of holy water just incase the house was not as empty as it looked. Dean grabbed a pistol and the other remaining flask, pausing for a second before he closed the false bottom and then closed the trunk door, locking it once he was done.

They used a knife to cut the 'Do Not Enter' tape on the door and entered, making sure that no one saw them before they shut the door behind them. The brothers split up, Dean going to the left of the white staircase and Sam going to the right. The whole house was trashed, everything broken and scattered on the ground. It was hard not to step on something and Dean jumped when he heard Sam's shoe grind up some broken glass. They rounded the corner and met each other in the living room where blood was scattered everywhere.

"Chainsaw?" Dean asked, holding his sleeve up to his mouth to block out the intense smell that met his nose.

Sam grimaced as he walked around a pool of blood. "Good guess. Take a look at this."He motioned to a sigil on the wall. A perfect circle with waving lines inside that met in the center. "I've seen this before."

Dean glanced from the sigil to Sam's face. "You have? Where?" Dean asked, taking in the concentrated look on his brothers face before his eyes passed over the blood once again. "It doesn't seem to be finished."

"No, it wouldn't be." Sam said, turning to look at Dean. "It's missing a few pieces."

Dean raised his eyebrows, tilting his head forward. "And you know this how?" Dean questioned, feeling like he had been left in the dark.

Sam sighed and bit his lip, turning away from the wall to meet Dean's questioning gaze. "When I killed Lilith, her blood pooled onto the floor in this pattern."

"And then Lucifers cage opened." Dean breathed out.

"Exactly."

"We can't let that happen." Dean murmured, his eyes glancing around for anything of use. "So they'll have to come back to finish the ritual and do the next part."

"Yeah, whatever that is." Sam replied, watching his brother glance around with a confused look on his face. "I would assume that it would have to do with the horsemen's rings. They closed Lucifer in, maybe they're the only way he can get out. Do you still have them?

Dean shook his head, "No, they disappeared when you fell in."

"That poses a problem." Sam replied, sarcasm tinting his voice.

"So? We'll just have to get the jump on them." Dean said, a small smile forming on his lips, the first one in weeks. But he turned away from his brother to hide it, maybe all he did need was a hunt and saving the world again. Now if only he could save Castiel.

* * *

A lone figure appeared at the walkway of the victorian home, the eyes scanning the apparently empty building before it headed up the walkway, skipping up the steps in a joyful fashion before entering the building. Its footsteps seemed to make no noise as it navigated through the debris on the floor, arriving the the room Sam and Dean had been standing in mere hours before. Kneeling down the figure grabbed some candles out of it's backpack and proceeded to light them, placing the flickering flames on any flat surface of the room. Turning, as it light the last one, it walked across the room to place it on a chair that was still somewhat intact when it ran into an invisible boundary.

"Hey there." Dean said, walking through the doorway, a small smile on his face as Sam walked through the other one. A small hiss escaped the demon's lips as its eyes narrowed at the Winchesters. "Seems like you're a little stuck to me." The demon lunged at Dean, dropping the candle to the floor. But the barrier stopped it. Dean smiled, standing a few inches away from her and pointed up to the ceiling where a faint devils trap had been drawn.

The demon's face relaxed, the snarl it had previously disappeared before it stepped back. "Well, congratulations, Winchester." She murmured, her voice echoing around the room. "So now what?" She asked, bringing up her hand as it to inspect her nails uninterested.

"Well, now," Dean chuckled, glancing at Sam. "We send you back to Hell. But first, what were you doing here?"

She looked up, a bored face, but her eyes held slight terror in them. "Isn't it obvious. I was bringing back my Master from the cage." Her eyes traveled to Sam and she glanced him up and down. "It is nice to see his meat suit is still intact."

Sam couldn't meet her eyes, but he did notice the slight waver in her voice, the fear of being sent to Hell and the pain that would cause. "Better luck next time." The younger brother growled before he began to chant the Latin phrases.

The demons face went deathly pale and she clutched her stomach. Her black eyes widened and dark circles formed under them. "Wait." She groaned, doubling over as the words affected her. "Wait, I know something you might be interested in." Dean glanced at Sam, but the brother continued chanting, watching the veins throb in her neck. "A-about… Castiel. I know…." That caught Dean's attention and he stepped in front of Sam, cutting him off.

"What do you know about Castiel?" Dean asked, bending down slightly to look into the heaving demons face, her breath coming in short and shallow.

"I know lots of things." Her smile was back, but her eyes still showed fear.

"Answer me!" Dean yelled, his hand tightening around the demon dagger he had in his hand. His patience was wearing thin, but he could not deny the spark of hope that leapt in him at her words. A hope that maybe she did know and was telling the truth. A hope that he could have Castel back with them soon.

She paused, as if contemplating her answer, but then she shrugged. "Springfield."

Sam and Dean stared at her, and Dean raised his eyebrows, waiting for the next part. "Springfield….?"

She chuckled, "Oh no, you're not getting that part easily. See, hunny, I'm the one with the goods so I get to claim the terms. I'll tell you the state, if you release me from this trap."

"Dean…." Sam murmured, already seeing his older brother contemplating what she had asked. "Dean, you know we can't." If this demon was let go than she would try this all over again, wreaking havoc and the very likely possibility of letting Lucifer out of his cage again. That was something the brothers could not deal with right now. They would not want Lucifer walking the earth and that evil mother Eve doing everything in her power to kill the human race as well. There was only so much Sam and Dean could handle.

Dean turned towards Sam, his face yearning to let the demon go and to find out where Castiel was. Ignoring his brothers eyes, Dean reached up, standing on his toes as he erased part of the outer line of the trap. His shirt rode up, showing some of the bare flesh of his hip before he sank down and watched the demon in front of him with apprehension. "So?" Dean asked.

The demon stepped out of the trap, stretching her arms above her head in a leisurely way. "Massachusetts. Springfield, Massachusetts. A cute little canning factory on the outskirts of the city." She turned, her eyes glancing at the sigil on the wall. "Well, perhaps I'll see you boys around."

"Not so fast." Dean said and her eyes glanced back at him slightly confused until she noticed the knife in his hand. This was not the way he had planned for it to go, but as she took a step back and opened her mouth, Dean plunged the knife into her chest, watching as it seemed to crackle with electricity. Her body shuddered and dropped to the floor, blood dripping out of the open wound in her chest, pooling underneath her body on the floor.

The two brothers watched her body for a few seconds, Dean wiping the blood off the knife and onto his pants before he turned and strode out of the house, kicking anything that was in his way. Sam glanced from his brother's retreating back and then down to the girl on the floor. "Dean. We can't just leaver her here." Sam watched his brother turn towards him with an exasperated look on his face.

"Sammy, come on. We'll call some other hunter and they'll do it for us. Tons of people owe us favors." Sam watched his brother explain, keeping his voice passive. Sam raised an eyebrow and shook his head, noticing his brothers emotions near the surface, just begging to be let loose. Dean sighed in annoyance before he left the house, slamming the door slightly harder than necessary behind him.

The girls eyes stared at the ceiling, dull and lifeless and Sam crouched down. She was a beautiful, young girl, no older than twenty, but due to unexpected circumstances, her life had ended in one of the worst ways possible. Sam's light fingers trailed down her forehead, catching on the soft eyelashes that framed her eyes as Sam closed her eyelids. Now, other than the small trail of blood from the corner of her moth, the girl almost looked as if she was sleeping peacefully. It was the younger brother's turn to sigh as he stood and left the house, catching the end of his brother's conversation on the phone.

"Thanks, Orin, we owe you one." Dean closed his phone and turned, a ghost of a smile on his lips, but he knew he could not get his hope up yet. "Let's go Sammy. Off to tax-achusetts and kick some mass-holes!" That pun caused Sam to glance at his brother with an odd look before depositing his weapons next to Deans in the trunk. As Dean and Sam slid into the car, Dean glanced over, turning the key and hearing the engine roll over a few times before it caught. "It's about forty-five hours away, so if we keep switching then we should be there in a few days."

For the second time that night, Sam's eyebrows shot up, "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Of course I do." Came Dean's gruff reply as he pulled out of the drive where they had hidden the car and tore through the streets, getting on the highway and heading towards Boise.

Sam stuck with Dean's insane plan, barely stopping for food and sleeping when the other one was driving. But when Sam's vision began to swim and he couldn't focus on the lines of the road, he puled into a cheep motel in the next town and turned the car off.

The older hunter jerked awake. "Huh? What are we doing?" His voice came out slightly sluggish from the wake up, and his eyes gazed drearily around the parking lot, squinting at the bright motel light.

"We are sleeping." Sam explained, opening the car door and getting out. "We need sleep. We can't just go in and rescue Cas half awake and hope for the best."

Dean looked like he was going to put up a fight before he shrugged. "Whatever, man." He grumbled, grabbing the handle of his door and pushing it open. He sat there, with one leg out of the car and the other one in, almost as if he was at a loss of what to do next.

There was a young woman at the counter of the motel, flipping idly through a magazine with one hand and running her other hand through her curly, black afro. She glanced up and a pleasant smile graced her carmel colored skin. "What can I do you for?" The woman asked as she straightened herself up from her leaning position. Sam talked to her longer than he knew he needed to getting a regular room with two queen sized beds, and he thanked her before he left.

Dean hadn't moved from the position Sam had left him in, his brother's eyes wearily passing over everything but not seeing.

"This is what you get for driving thirty-eight hours straight." Sam chided, before he went to the back of the Impala, unlocked the trunk and grabbed both his and Dean's duffel bag. When Sam passed Dean again, he tossed his brother's duffel bag at him, hearing the satisfied noise as it hit the air out of him. Though, Sam felt like he shouldn't be too mean to his brother who had been all riled up the whole trip, getting infinitely less sleep than Sam had. The younger brother had assumed it was because after all this time there was finally a solid lead and Dean just wanted Castiel back to them, safe.

As soon as Sam opened the door to the motel, they kicked off their shoes, sending them flying to the other side of the room, closed the motel door and collapsed on their beds. Passing out as soon as their heads hit the pillows.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PG-13  
**Warnings:** Violence, Swearing, Implied non-consentual sexual activities**  
**

**A/N:** So again, I never seem happy with the way my chapters come out. But I'm really excited for everyone to read the next chapter, it's from Castiel's point of view. The next chapter will be out next Sunday.

I hope you all enjoy reading! Thank you!

Chapter Four

"Are you sure this is it?" Dean asked, his hand hanging out the window of the Impala as they surveyed the building from afar.

Sam shrugged, looking at the map and tilted it, a confused look on his face. "Yeah, I mean, it's the only abandoned canning factory in Springfield." Dean noticed Sam's confused face. "Massachusetts really got rid of everything from their industrial phase, there's barely any old factories… or any factories for that matter. So… I guess this would be it unless we want to check out Lowell while we're here. But that's near Boston and was a weaving factory." Sam let the map drop to his lap as he looked out of Dean's window at the old building. "So now what?"

Dean's thumb tapped the wheel lightly. "We go in and raise some Hell." His eyes turned to look at Sam, as if that was the obvious answer.

Dean had been pissed at Sam when he woke up in the bed having barely any recollection of having left the car last night. But, admittedly, the shower was amazing in the morning and he had felt so refreshed and better from that night's sleep than he had felt in weeks. There was the last few hours to drive which had brought them to the old factory.

"Who knows if the information she even gave us was correct." Dean muttered, opening the car door and heading around to the trunk.

Sam had not wanted to voice his fears, but he guessed that the demon had given them false information just to get Dean to let her go. Sam shook his head as he got out of the car and met his brother around back. Grabbing the holy water and the shotguns they continued to watch the outside, seeing no movement anywhere.

"It couldn't be a trap. They couldn't possibly know we're coming." Sam said, trying to quell his fears.

"Or it's empty." Dean shrugged, loading two rounds into his gun. "But it doesn't hurt to check it out." Sam nodded and held his pistol, wrapping his fingers around the grip of the handle.

Both of their nerves were on edge as they stuck to the edge of the parking lot and pushed on a door, finding it locked. A small huff passed between Dean's lips as he hugged the edge of the building, attempting to find the next door. Once it was found, he pulled down on the handle and felt it give way, opening to a dark hallway. The brother's entered, turning on their flashlights as the door swung closed and the light from the outside disappeared. The whole building seemed to be in shambles since it hadn't been used in years. Unsure as to where they were going, they wandered around, peering into any rooms. As they neared what seemed to be a storage part of the factory, Sam's hand grabbed Deans elbow, pointing down to some shoe prints in the settled dust. Following that trail, they noticed a soft glowing light coming from one of the doors of the storage room, pooling on the floor. Dean raised his hand and Sam stayed back behind him as Dean peered into the window.

His pupils dilated as he looked into the room, getting used to the lights that hit his eyes. It was exactly like what Dean had seen. Sigils and wards covered the walls in ancient Enochian, the room was steel gray with a lighter concrete floor, and in the middle hung a bloodied and limp body.

"Cas!" Dean whispered, throwing the door open without hesitation and running into the room. Sam followed afterwards, a pause in his gait as he saw Castiel.

The naked body was covered in red, lighter and darker shades depending on how dry it was. His chin was pressed against his chest, hiding his face. But the black hair shined red in the light, matted and dirty. A copper smell infiltrated their noses when they entered to room due to all the blood on the angels body and pooled on the ground, splashed across the wall.

Dean reached Castiel's body first and placed a hand under the angel's chin as Sam reached up and began to pick the lock on Castiel's wrists. "Hey, Cas…. Hey?" Dean asked hesitantly, trying to hide his fear as he saw Castiel's face, bruised and bloody, beaten to a pulp. "God…" Dean said, in shock of what he was seeing. A wave of relief went through Dean as the angel's eyelids fluttered, revealing confused and disoriented blue eyes.

"Dean?" The voice cracked, rough and deep, just like Dean remembered.

"Yeah, yeah… Cas, it's me." Dean said, a small smile gracing his lips.

But Castiel just pulled his head away from Dean's hand and let it flop onto his left shoulder. "No…" Castiel moaned, as if he was begging. "Go away…. Not him. Anyone but him….. Stop playing with me." Castiel pleaded, closing his eyes.

Dean's eyes opened wide, realizing that Castiel thought he was a hallucination. "Oh God, Cas. It's me. It's really me." Dean murmured, glancing up to see how Sam was doing with the lock. Dean re-captured Castiel's chin, moving his head so he could stare right at Castiel's closed eyes. "Cas, come on… look at me." And Castiel did, opening his eyes and focusing on Dean. "I'm real. Feel this?" Dean asked, stroking his thumb over Castiel's bottom lip, figuring that was where it would hurt the least. His lip seemed to be unhurt and the cleanest part of his body, but Dean did not want to think of why. "Feel that, Cas? Huh?" Dean asked quietly, moving over Castiel's bottom lip again.

It was almost as if sudden realization had dawned on the angel. "Dean?" He asked again, his voice stronger than last time. A small, painful smile spread over his lips, "I knew you would come for me." Castiel's eyes fluttered, and Dean knew that he was about to pass out.

"Hey, hey, Cas. Stay with me." Dean's gruff voice commanded as the lock on the handcuff's clicked and Castiel fell forward into Dean's arm. A whimper of pain came from the angel, who seemed so small and vulnerable in the older brother's arm. A hiss of anger passed between Dean's lips as he felt wounds split open from the movement and the feeling of a warm sticky liquid seeping into his shirt. "Sam." Dean growled and began to pull off his jacket finally getting it all off once Sam held the naked angel back enough for Dean to move. Once his leather jacket was off, Dean wrapped it around Castiel, watching as it went halfway down the smaller man's thighs. "Cas? Castiel?" Dean asked again, making sure the angel was still awake.

"Dean." Came the words from Castiel's mouth, breathing warm air across Dean's neck. "Can we go now?" It almost sounded as if Castiel wasn't sure they were going to go, or if this was real. The bought of sanity the angel had earlier seemed to be fading and Dean rubbed a light hand up and down Castiel's back.

"Yeah. We can." Dean replied, about to figure out the best way to get Castiel back to the car when there was the noise of clapping behind them.

Dean and Sam whirled around, casing Castiel to stumble after them. "Well isn't this lovely, I was coming here for my usual dose of torture and fucking and look who I find." The the demons smiled, their eyes glancing over the group huddled in the middle of the room. Sam stepped up in front of Castiel, his eyes wide and roaming around the room, glancing at the sigils. "Dean." The main demon continued with a fond smile on his face. "I still remember your perfect lips around my dick."

There was silence in the room as Dean's eyes narrowed, "Malinchor."

The grin on the Malinchor's face grew. "You may have been Alistair's charge, but let me say. I was rather upset when this angel took away my plaything." The demon stepped forward, his hand reaching up to stroke his chin mindlessly. "But I guess it makes sense that I would take away your plaything."

Dean stayed silent, Castiel wasn't his plaything, but right now, all he could care about was getting Castiel out of there and somewhere safe.

"But look here!" Malinchor continued. "I now have a total of three playthings. Actually, I can just get rid of that sorry excuse and enjoy you two." Malinchor raised his rand and the other two demons moved forward.

"Sam?" Dean asked, turning Castiel away from them.

"Yeah." Sam replied and that was all Dean needed as he placed an arm under the angels knees and picked him up.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Sam charge at the demons, the knife that would kill them raised and the flask of holy water in his other hand. Dean knelt and placed the angel's back against the wall, his bare legs sprawled out against the old concrete. As Dean un-wrapped his arms from around the figure, Castiel whimpered and a weak hand reached to grab Dean, not wanting the hunter to leave. Dean grasped Castiel's hand and placed it back onto the angel's lap before he turned, only to see the other demon charging at him, smoke coming off him from the last of Sam's holy water. The air was knocked out of Dean as the demon's shoulder collided with his ribcage, pushing him to the ground away from Castiel. The demon landed on top of Dean and its hand reached for the human's neck while the other made a solid connection with his face. The shotgun had long been abandoned near the entrance to the storage room, but as Dean tried to fight off the demon, one of his hands reached for his waistband pulling out the pistol he had stashed and shooting a round of salt into the demon. It was enough to startle it and slow it down and Dean pushed it off of him, rolling on top of the demon this time and punching him in the face.

Dean felt a body slide next to him and saw his brother fall to his knees and plunge the knife into the demon's heart. Then the brothers twirled, their eyes searching for Malinchor. He was not hard to find, one arm wrapped around Castiel's waist, the other arm was holding a knife to the angel's throat. "Well, this has been lovely, boys, and I do wish I could stay and chat, but there's so many things to do, places to see, people to corrupt."

Even though the demon was talking, all Dean could do was focus on Castiel. In Malinchor's arm's the angel seemed like he had surrendered and given in, fear could clearly be seen in his bright blue eyes along with some other unreadable emotions.

"Ta-ta." Malinchor said brightly as he opened his mouth and black smoke began to pour out, colliding with the ceiling before phasing through it. The body that Malinchor was occupying trembled and collapsed to the ground, the knife clattering along with it.

Castiel stood there for a moment, confusion crowding his usually stock face before his eyes began un-focusing and his face became impassive. His body began to waver, tilting and making it look like he was going to fall. Within seconds Sam and Dean were up from their kneeling position and rushing to grab Castiel before he made contact with the ground. Once Dean had wrapped his arms around Castiel, the angel fell into his embrace. The hunter picked Castiel up just as the engel stated to babble something in a foreign language and Dean could only guess it was Enochian. Dean turned to Sam and muttered, "Let's get out of here, that way Cas can heal and we can head to Bobby's house."

Sam nodded, leading the way back to the car, trying his best to remember and retrace their steps. Once they exited the factory and squinted against the sun they glanced down at Castiel, resting in Dean's arms with his eyes closed. His babbling has stopped a while ago and the only way they knew he was awake was from the occasional moan or whimper that would come from his still form when Dean would accidentally jostle or bump him. They watched longer than they needed to, but the wounds on Castiel were not healing, instead the sun showed how much damage had been made to his body. Dean glanced up at Sam to see his brother biting his lip in fear.

"Sammy, why's he not healing?" Worry tinged Dean's voice.

Sam just shook his head, "Let's get him in the car. Maybe Isfahar knows."

They headed to the car and Dean placed Castiel as gently as he could in the back seat, crawling in and propping that angel's back against his chest, the back of Castiel's head was cradled against Dean's shoulder, flopping over and resting his warm forehead against Dean's neck. Suddenly without warning, Castiel began to seize, flinging his limbs in all directions as inhuman noises came from his mouth. "Sam!" Dean yelled, holding the upper part of Castiel's body down, glancing to see that Sam had grabbed the angels legs and were pinning them to the seat. The angel's back arched and hit Dean in the jaw, causing exploding pain. "Fuck." He swore, placing a hand on Castiel's head and holding it to his shoulder. Soon the seizure turned into small quakes and then stopped all together. "Cas?" Dean asked, fearing for the worst. He could see the steady rise and fall of Castiel's chest and feel the breath pass along his skin under Dean's jaw, but he seemed to have passed out.

"He's not healing." Sam murmured, looking up from Castiel's legs, his hand red from the blood pouring out of the wounds Castiel had opened in the seizure.

Dean was silent, watching Castiel's peaceful face before he wrapped his arms around Castiel and adjusted to the door wasn't prodding into his back too much. "I know." Dean smoothed the hair back from Castiel's face, feeling the dried blood on it cracking from the pressure. "Isfahar. Get down here. Now. We need you." Dean growled into the air as Sam slid into the drivers seat and turned on the car, pulling away from the curb and onto the road, heading towards South Dakota.

After a few seconds a flutter of wings was heard and the blonde was sitting in the passenger seat. Her eyes drifted over Sam and then to the back seat to Dean. Then her eyes traveled down to the bloodied figure in Dean's arms. "Castiel." She breathed, but then her brow furrowed as she reached over to him. Her hand glowed lightly and a frown appeared on her face to match her brows. "Something is not right."

"No shit. Now heal him." If Isfahar was displeased by Dean's tone she didn't show it. Instead she reached two fingers to Castiel's forehead pressing them down gently, but then a flash of pain crossed her face and she drew back. Her breath was coming out hard and Sam glanced over at her.

"What is it?" He asked, his eyes turning back to the road.

Isfahar's hands went to her head, closing her eyes for a few seconds. The car was silent, all waiting for her to explain or do something else. But she opened her eyes and turned back to face Dean, pulling open the sides of the coat and revealing Castiel's body. If seeing her leader's vessel naked in front of her bothered her she didn't show it, instead, she raised a glowing hand and passing it over Castiel's chest. The blood cleared from that area, showing a carving of Enochian symbols into the chest of the angel.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked, staring at the elaborate sigil that took up most of the angels chest. "Isfahar?"

Finally the woman spoke, her voice emotionless and lower than usual. "It's old. It binds an angels grace. It makes them practically human."

"Wait. So Cas is a human? Like…. human human?" Dean asked, fear welling up inside of him.

"Just until the sigil heals. Then his grace will be restored." Isfahar replied, her fingers tracing over a symbol as if trying to remember it.

Sam turned down a side road, trying to find the interstate, "Can't you just heal it?" As he turned, he saw the angel staring at him.

"No. This symbol here…" Isfahar traces the symbol with her finger again, "It prevents any angelic interference. If there is, it brings pain to them." The angel leaned back in her seat. Silence enveloped the car again, all three of them were staring somewhere else. "I am no use here." Isfahar muttered and with a flap of wings she had disappeared.

But even after she was gone, the silence continued, the enormity of their problem weighing down the air in the car. Neither of them wanted to slice through that and speak. Dean just leaned down and hummed along with the rock music that was flowing lightly from the speakers. Occasionally a word from the song would mumble through his humming, but he sat and waiting, hoping that Castiel would wake up. But instead of showing any signs, the body stayed still in his arms, the only way Dean knew that Castiel was alive was from the rise and fall of the angel's chest.

Finally, the silence was broken as Sam pulled over to the side of the road, placing the car in par and craning his neck over the seat in order to see the marking on Castiel's chest. "We should bring him to a hospital." Sam suggested. If Castiel really was a human at the moment, then he would need human treatment.

Dean pulled the jacket closed around Castiel's body and nodded, "I know."

It was decided, and Sam put the car in drive and headed towards the nearest hospital. They drove in silence again, the houses passing as they neared the city.

Suddenly, the noise of a gasp could be heard in the car and Dean's gaze shot down as he saw Castiel's face, eyes wide and focused, mouth open as he inhaled a deep breath. The peacefulness was gone, replace by fear and confusion. His blue eyes glanced at the arms wrapped around him and his body tensed, struggling against the hold.

"Cas. Shh, Cas, it's okay. It's just me." Dean whispered. "Stay with me Cas."

Castiel's eyes moved up to see Dean's face, and Dean could feel his features being studied. The bodes was still tense under his arms and Dean feared for a seconds that he was going to be pushed away. "Is… is this real?" Castiel asked, a bloody hand reaching up and ran across Dean's lips in much the same way that Dean had done for Castiel. But the angel did not stop at that. His hand ran across Dean's cheeks, across the bridge of his nose, around his ears and into his hair, coming down onto his forehead before Castiel dropped his hand back down to his side with a tired sigh.

"Yeah, it's real." Dean muttered, his skin tingling where Castiel's hand had passed over it.

"Then I'll stay." Castiel replied, his body finally relaxing into Dean's.

A small chuckle came from Dean as he pressed his lips against to top of Castiel's head, inhaling the smell of iron and deep underneath the smell of nature.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PG-13  
**Warnings:** Violence, Swearing, Implied non-consentual sexual activities**  
**

**A/N:** This chapter is from Castiel's point of view, so I attempted to switch my writing style. I feel like Castiel thoughts are organized like boxes while Dean's are like a messy room. Next post will be up next Sunday!

Enjoy reading!

Chapter Five

It had been months, but it felt like years to the angel, his grace confined and his skin torn, beaten, and bloody. His memories from being human for a short time before were nothing like this. Humans seemed so fragile, so simple, as if something in them could break and the life could leave their body. Also the psychological aspect of it. Of course, it could be there in an angel as well, but Castiel had the mentality that nothing could harm him, that he was strong and had nothing to fear. Well, except for the safety of the humans he loves. Such as Dean, Sam, Bobby, Claire, and Amelia. But Castiel knew he could always save them and protect them, but in this form, he was nothing more than useless, unable to even save himself.

Disgust. That emotion which had been practically foreign to him before seemed to seep through his body, pouring through his veins. Disgust at his weakness. Disgust at the predicament he was in. Disgust that the demons were ravaging his body in any way they pleased. His list could go on, but he would not let his mind focus on one thing for too long.

They psychological aspect was really getting to him. Hallucinations. Nightmares. Voices whispering sweet lies into his ears. Things that came when the demons were not there. Fires burning up around his feet, swallowing his pleas and cries for help. Dean walking in and saving him before turning into Lucifer and laughing before reaching in and puling Castiel's heart out. Sleeping for only minutes at a time before screaming and shaking himself awake, tears falling from his eyes and sweat glistening across his naked body. Castiel even praised his father when he went through a whole day without a mental break.

But he could not deny the jump of hope when he saw Dean walk into the room, seeming surprised and happy to see Castiel well, only to turn and begin torturing Castiel like the Demons had. Soon, Castiel realized that was all he was good for. Torturing and the forcing of fornication. It had gotten to the point that he would give the demons anything they wanted just so they would leave sooner.

It hurt.

He once was a mighty angel, but he had been reduce to a mess of flesh and bones and pleasure for others. Many things that happened, he attempted to push out of his mind, only having them come back when he least expected them to, flashing in front of his eyes and making him watch them over and over again.

He could feel himself giving up, already broken, wanting nothing more than for his life to end. For the embarrassment, fear, and disgust to end and the emotions to leave. For him to stop hating himself instead of the demons who were making him who he was.

So when the door of the storage room opened, Castiel did not even look up, hoping that this was the day they put him out of his misery.

"Cas?" A familiar voice asked, worry on the underlying notes of the single word. Anger flared up in the angel, but he refused to play this game with his mind. Refused to give into the obvious signs that his mental health was leaving him. But the hand grabbed his chin softly and moved his head up. "Hey, Cas…. Hey?" Still, Castiel kept his eyes closed ignoring the pain that shot through his unhinged jaw, not wanting to see the hunter's face, knowing that the pain it would cause to see Dean would be worse than any torture the demons had inflicted upon him. "God." The voice whispered, and that caused Castiel's eyes to flutter open. Even his hallucinations had never taken his father's name in vain. This was something different, but he did not want his mind thinking it was okay to start sinning in such a way.

The face in front of him brought memories sweeping back to the surface. Especially the only thing that kept him sane while in captivity. Dean's voice echoing his prayers in Castiel's head came back to the angel at full force. When Sam was not around, Dean had taken a habit of praying to the angel. Filling him in with tidbits of Sam and his life, but Castiel could not be sure if they were real or self-induced. "Dean?"

"Yeah, yeah… Cas, it's me." Castiel's eyes focused on Dean's lips watching the words form and leave. But Castiel did not want this. He did not want to remember. He did not want to see Dean. Fear and humiliation crept through his body. Castiel just wanted the hallucination to go away.

In anger Castiel pulled his chin away from the hallucination's hold letting his head fall onto his shoulder. "No…" He moaned, staring at anything but the blond in from of him. "Go away…. Not him. Anyone but him….. Stop playing with me." Castiel pleaded, finally closing his eyes when he saw that the younger Winchester hallucination had accompanied Dean. Everything was always worse when they both were there. Sam, Castiel could usually bear on his own. Dean was slightly harder. But when they were together it was Hell.

Silence seemed to surround them, only the noise of some metallic clicking up near his wrists. That confused him, usually they wouldn't care to let him go, but now it seemed as if Sam was fumbling with the lock. Dean's voice came through to him even though Castiel tried to focus on something else."Oh God, Cas. It's me. It's really me." There it was again. His father's name in vain. Angry, Castiel tried to think about negative things, focusing on how the Hunter had wronged him in the past. But Dean re-captured Castiel's chin seeming to have other plans. In the state he was in Castiel could not fight the hold the hallucination had. "Cas, come on… look at me." After a few seconds of debating Castiel decided to open his eyes. Even if it was a hallucination Castiel could benefit from seeing the fake Dean and he could not deny that he wanted to. "I'm real. Feel this?" The hallucination asked and Castiel felt the man's thumb lightly stroking over his bottom lip. Castiel tried not to shudder, tried not to remember what had happened to his face, to his mouth, to his lips. Tried not to think of how many timed his tongue had run over his chapped and bloodied lips in order to moist them for the most pleasure for the demons. "Feel that, Cas? Huh?" Castiel did feel that.

And it suddenly dawned on him. This was the real Dean. The Dean that promised Castiel that they would come and find him, get him out of this Hell hole. It smelled like Dean as well, something that hallucinations never had. Even the thumb running along his bottom lip again felt like Dean. No hallucination was ever like this. Castiel could barely choke out, "Dean?" And then the painful memories of the demons tormenting him, saying that Dean did not actually care, that he just used the angel for his specials and knowledge, that the hunters would never come for him, washed over Castiel. A small triumphant smile pressed up the corner of the angels lips. "I knew you would come for me." With that knowledge, Castiel closed his eyes, ready to let the blackness take him. He was not sure where it would go, but it felt pleasant and warm and had been tugging at his senses for a while now.

But Dean's voice brought him painfully back to the present. "Hey, hey, Cas. Stay with me." Castiel struggled to follow Dean's voice out of the darkness, but then he felt himself falling and he tried to bring his wings up to stop himself. The wings did not move, instead, he felt himself fall against something solid and warm. The smell of Dean intensified and Castiel let himself relax into the hunters arms. Everything was dark and blurry, but he felt his naked body wrapped in something warm, feeling it being closed tight around him before Dean was calling his name again.

Slightly irritated, Castiel repeated Dean's name before fear dawned on him, "Can we go now?" Castiel asked, hoping that they were not going to leave him here due to the state he was in. He could heal, he could fight again someday. He could be useful. Even if it was just for pleasure and torture. He would rather be tortured by the Winchesters than by anyone else. At least that way he would know they still wanted him around, still had some feeling towards him whether it be good or bad.

"Yeah. We can." And Castiel felt relief flow through him, finally, he was getting out of here. But something caused Dean to turn, dragging Castiel with him. The movement made the angel dizzy and he spent the next few moments trying to calm his head. Then he felt himself being placed on the ground, the cold wall at his back, the floor pressing against his legs. What he missed most was the warmth of Dean's body around him and the angel attempted to grab Dean's arm and hold on. Disappointment bloomed inside the angel as Dean placed his hand in his lap and the vibration of footsteps left Castiel.

Noises went on around him, but he was too out of it to notice keeping his eyes open was a challenge the darkness in his mind attempting to envelop him. Hands grabbed him, and Castiel cowered back in fear. The hands were familiar and not in a pleasant way. They were the hands of the demon who caused him the most pain. Castiel forgot that the Winchesters were in the room as well, and slumped dejectedly, ready for the pain and torture to come. The cold metal of a knife was pressed agains his neck, slicing into the skin some, letting the blood trickle down and pool on top of his collar bone.

The demon spoke, his breath landing warm on Castiel's ear, and his sickly sweet words sinking into Castiel's core. Castiel ignored them, his eyes focusing on Dean, trying to keep himself grounded. The fact that he could see the hunter in front of him brought Castiel some hope that maybe they could all get out of here alive. If not, Castiel knew he would gladly die for the two Winchesters to get out of there undamaged. As the angel's eyes watched Dean, trying to remember every hair on the hunter's head, every wrinkle around his eyes, the support disappeared and Castiel found himself standing alone. His strength didn't last and Castiel vision blurred as his body swayed, preparing for the crash against the cement floor.

But the fall never came, instead he felt two strong arms circling him and knew instantly that it was Dean. Castiel relaxed knowing he was safe for now. A small, surprised moan escaped his lips as his feet left the ground being picked up and cradled against the older hunter's chest. No longer could he focus on the words the human's were exchanging. Attempting to focus mainly on the only thing Dean had asked of him. 'Stay with me.' But as they walked and Castiel's body fell intro the rocking motion of Dean's walk, he found it hard to not let the darkness take him and surround him. It was warm and comforting, unlike reality, harsh, cold, and painful. It seemed to almost whisper to him that it would take care of him, make him forget, make him unaware. But Castiel struggled, focusing on the pleasant things that were real. Dean's smell, Sam's breathing, Dean's warmth, the knowledge that they had come for him.

The outside air hit him, sending a small chill down his spine and he instinctively curled into the warm heat source against his side. Pressing his bruised and bloody face against Dean's shirt. The hunter's heart had not calmed down from the fight, sending a strong pulse through out his body, bringing warmth and comfort to Castiel.

The angel could feel the two men looking at him, but it seemed too much to open his eyes and acknowledge their presence. Castiel wanted to tell them what was wrong with him, but he was unable. His mouth would not move, his body seemed to want to cooperate with his wishes less and less.

Dean's hand loosened on Castiel's shoulder and they were moving again. Some words got through to Castiel, something about Isfahar and the Impala. An image came to mind of Isfahar, her blonde hair flowing behind her as her large wings moved her forward across the kingdom of Heaven. It should have confused Castiel as to how they knew her name or that angel at all, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care enough.

He felt himself being laid down again, this time on something that felt and smelled like leather. Dean's presence left him, and even so, Castiel made no moves to protest, his body just tired. But then hands under his back pushed his torso up and the seat shifted as Dean got in, and repositioned them. The warmth of Dean was now located at his back and Castiel felt his body relax.

The darkness called to him this time, not as nicely as it had before, it demanded that Castiel come to it. And when the angel refused, the darkness formed into a monster, black, with large white teeth and no definite form. As it surrounded Castiel, he felt his body began to buck into the air and shake.

* * *

"Castiel." A voice said, causing the angel to open his blue eyes in surprise. His eyes glanced around, seeing the room where Dean had tortured Alisair. But there were no walls, just blackness pressing in on them. Turning, Castiel's blue eyes landed on Uriel, his face pleading as he looked at his friend. "Not murder. No my work is conversion. How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by rules that make no sense?"

Castiel just stared at his brother in confusion. Something was wrong here, something was off. Something about Uriel that Castiel knew what was important. Opening his mouth, the angel was going to question his brother. But Uriel spoke again, as if answering a question Castiel had yet to ask. He glanced down at his body, seeing the familiar trench coat and suit. His skin was healed and unblemished. He was sure if he felt hard enough he would feel his grace humming at full power.

"Our father? He stopped being that, if he ever was, the moment he created them. Humanity, his favorites. The whining, puking larvae."

It came to him suddenly, and he knew what he was supposed to say next. "Are you trying to convert me?" This conversation felt familiar, and his eyes glanced down to the blade hanging loosely from Uriel's fingertips. Uriel was a killer, killing his brethren that would not join him in his conversion.

"I wanted you to join me, and I still do. With you we could be powerful enough to…." Uriel paused, as if he knew Castiel was not going to like what he would say next.

But Castiel pressed on, wanting to know. "To…?"

"To raise our brother."

"Lucifer." Castiel said, his face stoic, but fear caused his hands to tremble. What was Uriel saying? How could he betray Castiel like this?

Uriel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "You do remember him? How strong he was? How beautiful? And he didn't bow to humanity. He was punished for defending us!" Uriel spat walking past Castiel, but he continued on. "Now if you want to believe in something, Cas, believe in him."

Anger welled in Castiel at the use of the nickname Dean had given him. But he stayed silent, watching Uriel. Realization spread across his face. This had happened before. Uriel and him had this conversation already, years ago. Castiel shoved his hands into his trench coat, unwilling to play this game with him mind, but searching for more information. It was coming to him slowly, his memories fogged over by the blackness, but as he came to the end of the memory, Castiel stepped back in surprise. "You're dead."

Uriel just took a sept towards Castiel, his hands raised, "Now, please, brother, don't fight me. Help me. Help me spread the word. Help me bring on the apocalypse. All you have to do is be unafraid."

Castiel turned away from Uriel. Remembering the words he had thrown back at the angel. How strong he had felt back then, powerful, yet foolish. And now, he could barely keep himself together in his own mind. "No." Castiel growled, ignoring what he was supposed to say instead trying to get rid of this and return to the darkness. "It is over."

But there was no punch from Uriel that would send him careening through the wall. Instead, a deep throaty laugh as Uriel deviated from the script that Castiel had found in his mind. "No, brother. It does not have to be. Lucifer can walk the Earth again. You could be the one to do it."

Hunched over, Castiel closed his blue eyes. "I would never. Not after everything that has happened."

Uriel appeared in front of him and smiled, using two fingers to bring Castiel's chin up. "After everything? You're a poor example of an angel." That insult caused Castiel to flinch and he attempted to look away from Uriel's face. "You've been tortured and raped for the past six months. You deserve some revenge. Lucifer can give it to you. Lucifer can give you paradise."

Castiel pushed Uriel away and turned, facing the other wall. "The Winchesters…."

But the other angel cut him off. "Let you rot there." Uriel appeared in front of him. "You are not good for anything. Why don't you finally earn the respect you deserve! Let Lucifer out."

Castiel's eyes stared into Uriel and his hands balled into fists in his trench coat. "No. Go away."

It seemed to work because Uriel took a step back and then shook his head. "Fine. But I'll be back. We all will." And with that, he raised his hand into the air and Castiel heard the crackling of fire, but he could not feel the heat. Spinning, Castiel found himself completely surrounded by holy fire. "Goodbye, brother." Uriel said, before he melted into the blackness of the room.

The room began to shift and change, the edges lengthening, turning into a flat concrete floor until it hit the dark edges. Confused, Castiel's cerulean eyes glanced around, fearing what would come next. But instead he came face to face with Gabriel, the same jovial smile on his lips, the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Hey bro. How's the search for daddy going? Let me guess, awful."

Castiel began to search his mind, coming up with this exact moment. But Gabriel was already leaning towards him, the smile gone, but the twinkle still there. "How did you like the place I sent you?

A small shudder ran through Castiel's body at the remembrance of the dimension Gabriel had sent him. Fighting for his life against the eternal darkness. He was sure he was going to die, suffocate in the place where no light shone. But before he could take his last breath and scream for help, he had appeared behind the Winchesters, Gabriel's hand lowering as he stood in a ring of holy fire.

"I had such hope for you." Gabriel sighed, his eyes roaming Castiel's face.

Castiel tilted his head, confusion flitting across his face. "What?"

"When you were created you just floated there silently, sizing me up. All the other angels created, they just praise father or something to that effect. But you. You just stared at me, and I stared back. And then…" Gabriel chuckled, shaking his head. "And then you just spread your wings wide and flew off. You did not need to shout your praise out loud, you had internalized your love for your father. And I thought that maybe if there was some different angel out there. It would be you. One who could stand out from the rest and finally do the right thing." Gabriel walked to the edge of the ring of fire, his palm hovering over them as if he was trying to catch the imaginary warmth. "But, nope. What do you do? You join the Winchesters. You fall from grace. You die. Multiple times. And you know what I thought was the funniest thing of all?" Gabriel asked, turning to face Castiel, who in response just shook his head. "You helped shut Lucifer back in his cage."

"It was the right thing to do." Castiel replied, his heart aching at his brothers words.

Gabriel just shook his head, a look of disgust marring his usual joyful features. "The right thing to do? Cassy, do you even know right from wrong? I mean, honestly, you just let them use you in any ways they pleased, and eventually, you just stopped fighting back."

At the mention of that, Castiel felt himself slump. Even his mind could hurt him in ways worse than torture. "Gabriel…."

"I don't want to hear it Castiel. I cried. I cried for every angel who fell on the battlefield. I was done with mourning. I was done with leading the armies against fights that we shouldn't have. I was sick of having my soldiers dying in front of my eyes. I left. And I had hope that you would choose the right path. But instead, you fail me. Just like everyone else has." Gabriel's face turned to one of sorrow when he recounted his times as the middle brother leading his brethren into war, the leader.

Castiel was speechless, hearing his brother pour out his heart and feelings to him. But before he could reply another voice caught his attention. "Castiel, right?" Turning, the angel saw Lucifer's vessel leaning up against a brick wall. Glancing back, he noticed that Gabriel was gone and that he was left in the ring of holy fire alone. "Castiel. I was told you arrived her in an automobile."

"You-" Castiel growled. Taking a step forward but he was stopped by the fire. "You're gone. You're locked in the cage."

Lucifer shrugged, "Yes, well. Not in your mind." Lucifer began to walk around the fire. "I don't understand why you're fighting me. Of all the angels."

"You really have to ask?" Castiel replied, trying to keep his face passive. Hatred and fear threatened to overtake him, but he knew he had to stand up to Lucifer, up to his mind. He had to do this.

Lucifer shrugged, and answered. "I rebelled, I was cast out. You rebelled, you were cast out. Almost all of heaven wants to see me dead, and if they succeed, guess what? You're their new public enemy number one. We're on the same side, like it or not, so why not just serve your own best interests? Which in this case just happen to be mine."

Castiel watched Lucifer, the fire throwing an eery look onto his face, before a small smile graced the blue eyed angel's lips. "You're not real. You're just inside my head."

"Oh dear, Castiel. That's where I can do the most damage." Lucifer murmured, leaning closer to Castiel. "But you know. I don't have to be just inside your head. We could be in paradise together." Lucifer smiled as Castiel took a step back towards the center of the ring. "But I forgot. You refuse." Lucifer did not add anything to that, but Castiel knew he did not need to. They both knew the reasons, after all, Lucifer was from his mind.

They stared at one another, Castiel, impassive face staring into Lucifer's evil smile. Castiel was fine at keeping up their staring contest for the rest of his long life. But something distracted him and he looked down just in time to see a hand slide into his. Glancing up, Lucifer and the fire had disappeared, instead he was with Claire Novak, beaming up at him as he held her hand in his.

"Hi, daddy!" Claire exclaimed, her other arm wrapping around to give Castiel a hug. "It's good to see you again." She murmured into his chest.

Castiel resisted pointing out that he was not her father, he was an angel inhabiting her father's body, but it seemed as if it was the wrong thing to do at the moment. Instead he tilted his head down and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "Hey, baby." Catiel said, and for some reason his voice cracked. This was too intimate, it hit too close to home for Castiel's liking. It was Jimmy's memory and his family.

"Come on, Dad. Mom's making pancakes." Claire said as she let go of the angel and lead him by his hand over to the table that appeared. Amelia was humming a tune as she flipped a pancake off the pan and placed it onto a pile on a plate.

As she turned, she smiled, placing the plate onto the table. "Finally got out of bed."

"Yes. I did." Castiel replied, seeing the smile on her face. Castiel could see why Jimmy loved her, they were soul mates and meant for each other. Guilt spread through Castiel, knowing he had separated Jimmy and Amelia. She sat down next to Castiel and squeezed his hand before she leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, Claire took his other hand and he instantly knew that he was expected to pray. "Bless this food, oh Lord, and ourselves to thy loving service that we may always continue in thy faith and fear to the honor and glory of thy name. Amen. "

The two women next to him whispered, "Amen," and Amelia began to place the pancakes on each of their plates. Castiel poured syrup on his since he knew that was how Jimmy liked them, and then cut some of the circle off with his fork and placed it in his mouth, chewing it slowly. Conversation went on between Amelia and Claire, but Castiel paid little attention.

As he finished the last of his pancakes he looked up, seeing the table rapidly disappearing, but Claire stood up, her figure still strong in his mind, "It is time to return, Castiel. Remember." She placed two fingers to his forehead and Castiel felt himself inhale in a loud gasp.

* * *

Castiel's body shook with the intense intake of breath after he was pushed from the darkness and back into reality. His eyes focused on the ceiling of the Impala, feeling like he was more there than before. The darkness seemed to be there, but it was not threatening to pull him under like it was before. Then restriction was felt around his body and Castiel tensed, his eyes moving from the ceiling down to the bare arms that was holding him. They pressed down on a piece of clothing Castiel never remember. The jacket wrapped tightly around his small frame. He had yet to get used to the prospect of eating, and the demons just gave hime enough to stay alive. Hence, his body mass had decreased.

The restriction scared him and Castiel began to struggle against it, attempting to move his arms up so he could push them away. But before Castiel could do anything a comforting voice whispered into his ear, breathing warm air on the top of his head. "Cas. Shh, Cas, it's okay. It's just me. Stay with me Cas."

Confusion crossed Castiel's face as he tried to place the events that had happened in the last few hours. Hope had sparked up in him that he might have finally gotten away. But before he let it take over, Castiel whispered hoarsely, "Is this real?" Dean looked the same, except perhaps that he may have aged more in the past six months. Reaching up, Castiel ran his fingers gently over Dean's lips, feeling the soft skin underneath his torn and bloody fingers. But he wanted more. He wanted to feel all of Dean, so Castiel's hand rand along Dean's cheeks, nose, and hair until he was content that this Dean was the real Dean.

"Yeah, it's real." Dean replied and Castiel could feel his warm breath move across his fingers and Castiel let out a small sigh, relaxing into the body that held him even though everything in him was telling him to move away from this person. Fear stayed inside the angel, remembering the touch of the demons. But Castiel was too tired, he just wanted to enjoy what he could, Dean would protect him, keep him safe.

"Then I'll stay." Castiel replied, closing his eyes. He stayed awake though, ignoring the screaming protests of his body. He knew he was not in full pain yet, due to adrenaline, but he hoped it never wore off. Though, Castiel assumed that some of the reasons he did not feel the pain was because of Dean's presence and the knowledge that he had been rescued and was now away from that place. Dean leaned down and placed his lips on Castiel's head and the angel had to block a sigh of relief from escaping his lips as he listened to Dean's heart beating, letting it lull him into a haze


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PGish.  
**Warnings:** Swearing**  
**

**A/N:** I am so unhappy with this chapter. I'm sorry it came out so poorly written. Also, I want to apologize for my lack of knowledge with hospitals. I work in nursing homes and interact very little with hospitals. So forgive me.

Chapter Seven will be out next Sunday! Feel free to review.

Enjoy reading! Thank you.

Chapter Six

The hospital was a short drive away and Sam pulled the Impala into a parking spot near the emergency entrance. Dean opened the door behind him almost tumbling out when his support was gone but he dug his fingers into the leather seat and balanced himself. Castiel groaned at the shift in pain and Dean turned, looking for Sam to help him get the hurt angel out of the car.

Since Castiel was unable to heal himself, that put a slight damper on Sam and Dean's plans. Of course, the angel needed medical attention and were currently fumbling as to how to explain Castiel's condition to anyone. Only they knew the truth and they had no desire to let out that Castiel was tortured for almost six months by demons, none-the-less.

Sam appeared behind Dean and placed support under Castiel's shoulders as Dean backed out from behind Castiel, planting his feet firmly on the ground before he slid the angel out of the back seat of the car and cradled the emancipated body against him. The younger brother reached over and re-adjusted Dean's coat so it covered Castiel's chest better. It was a small gesture and it made Dean smile with thanks at him. Castiel had the opposite reaction. Feeling strange and unknown hands against his skin caused him to cringe away from the touch and open his eyes in fear.

After Castiel saw that it was Sam who had touched him he relaxed slightly, but the fear remained. "It's okay, Cas. It was just Sam. He's not gonna hurt you." Dean murmured, his lips near Castiel's ear.

A few seconds passed, the fear filled eyes traveled away from Sam's questioning and hurt face to Dean's green eyes. The fear slowly dissipated returning to a tired, but stoic gaze, as he nodded. Once everything was situated Sam and Dean, with Castiel cradled protectively within his arms, headed towards the entrance of the hospital. Hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

The doors slid open for them and a cool blast of air hit them, causing Castiel to shiver and burry his face into Dean's chest, a small whimper escaping his lips. That small action made Dean's heart rate increase. Taking a deep breath, the three traveled over to the small nurses desk where a short, light-haired girl was busy talking on the phone and writing a few notes down in short-hand on a piece of paper. She placed the phone back down on the receiver and hummed a few notes of a faint song, finishing the last of her notes before she glanced up at them, a pleasant smile seemingly plastered on her face.

"What can I do for you, boys?" She asked, her gaze flicking to Sam, then to Dean, and then to the small bundle of flesh and bones and Dean's arm. "Oh..." She whispered, eyes widening at an alarming rate. "That's a priority." The nurse muttered, composing her face back to normal from one of surprise and slight panic.

The nurse, Reba Toban from her name tag, grabbed the phone off the hook and dialed two numbers. "Alaina Carter... of course." Reba dialed another number and she began to speak, her voice echoing off the intercom around the hospital. "Doctor Carter to the ER, station 3. Doctor Carter to ER, station 3."

Dean and Sam stood there slightly confused. Often they skipped the hospital step, just going home and bandaging themselves up with some whiskey and dental floss. But this was different, they were dealing with an angel-turned-human being who had been tortured for multiple month and they had no clue to the extent of injuries, nor did they want to know.

A tan woman with dark brown hair and amber eyes hurried over to the desk, her white lab coat flying behind her in much the same fashion that Castiel's did when he walked. A pang of sadness and longing flooded through Dean and he rocked Castiel in his arms, humming deep in his throat.

The vibrations must have stirred Castiel, because his hand moved to rest on Dean's chest and a small smile parted his lips as he murmured, "Dean..."

The woman in the lab coat come over to Sam and Dean, her eyebrows raising slightly. "Alaina Carter." Her eyes trailed down to Castiel, whose eyes opened slightly and he was squinting at the woman. "He needs treatment, now." Her voice snapped with authority and knowledge, and she turned to the nurse at the station issuing orders.

In a flurry of movement, Castiel was taken from Dean's arms and placed on a moving bed. A white sheet dropped over him as they began to move him away. Sam and Dean followed the bed, trying to keep up as it maneuvered around the hallways, ending in a plain white room full of the necessities needed to work on Castiel. Three nurses and the doctor stood around Castiel as they took Dean's coat off the angel and slid him into a gown and pulled the curtain in front of the bed.

The brothers looked at each others in apprehension as Dr. Carter order, "I want everything done. Full body scan, ultrasound for internal bleeding, cat-scan. The whole works. From the looks of it, anything could be wrong with him. Let's start an I.V. and get some pain killers in him until we can get him into the trauma unit, we'll work on what we can."

Alaina Carter appeared around the curtain, pulling off her blue gloves and throwing them into the trash as she grabbed the phone off the hook and made a call to the trauma unit, seeing when she could bring Castiel over. Once she hung up she exited the room, looking the two men over.

"So... anyone want to tell me what went on here." The doctor ask, her eyes glancing from one man to the other.

They stayed silent for a second before Dean replied, uncertainly, "A car accident."

The older Winchester could feel the doctor's eyes watching him before she shook her head. "Try again. Some of those injuries are weeks old."

"We... just found him like that." Sam tried, his face one of remorse. It was partially true although it could bring up a lot of complications and Dean just wanted to kick Sam in the shin for that.

"Alright, so you two don't know the patient personally? He was just a stranger that you found?" Her face was stoic but her voice held a tint of disbelief. "Come on, I have to write a report on this, we don't want to be going to authorities, do we?"

That was the last thing the Winchesters wanted. They were dead, as far as most people knew. "He's been abused." Sam muttered, glancing over at Dean. The doctor nodded her head slightly as if she could agree with that.

"By his ex." Dean interjected, having no desire to tell her that Castiel was tortured by some demon that enjoyed humiliating Dean in Hell. "His ex-boyfriend." The doctors lips pursed as if she believed what they were saying. "But please don't report that, Cas, see, even though the guy abuses him and such, he doesn't want the law on the guy. He fears that his ex will just come back and hurt him more."

The doctor shrugged and sighed, "ultimately, that's my patient's decisions. I'll document everything and supply photo evidence as well." Dean grimaced at that thought, but thankfully it went unnoticed by Alaina. "But, I must ask, how are you related to the victim? Are you immediate family?"

They both knew this was coming and neither of them had planned for it, but Sam said without hesitation, "Dean is Castiel's fiancee."

Silence followed and Dean turned to look at Sam with an incredulous look on his face, to which Sam replied with a shrug. But they knew that they couldn't leave Castiel here, they needed an excuse to be close to the angel and get him out of the hospital when the time was right. If they admitted they were just close friends, business partners, or whatever to her, they surely would be sitting in the waiting room for a long time.

Whatever was going to be said next was interrupted by a loud and frantic scream. Suddenly, loud clamoring could be heard as the nurses began to talk and attempt to calm whoever had yelled down. The noise of metal hitting the floor reached the brothers ears and they glanced at each other as Alaina Carter left them and hurried into Castiel's room.

"Dean! No, get away!" Castiel's voice was loud and clear, fear running through the deep and ragged voice. "It wasn't real, was it." A sob broke through and Dean rushed through the door pulling the curtain back as his eyes frantically searched for his angel.

"Leave me alone." Castiel hissed towards the nurses and the doctor. The bed was bloody from where Castiel had thrashed and opened the wounds on his back. The I.V. was dangling on his arm, but the bag and the metal pole had fallen to the ground where a metal tray and some surgical equipment lay scattered around.

Dean stepped forward seeing Castiel's hands were resting on the wall for support and that his back was towards the hunter. He looked small and fragile in the nightgown, almost a pathetic form of what a powerful being he could be. But Dean tried to ignore it, focussing on the messy and bloody hair of Castiel and the almost clean face of the angel, noticing that one of the nurses had been trying to clean off the blood. "Cas. You alright man?"

The angel spun around towards him, twisting the I.V. tube around him as his eyes widened. The fear and mistrust were still there as if he was thinking this was a hallucination. Behind him he could feel Sam take a step forward and push Dean towards the confused and afraid angel. "Dean?"

Shit. It was the same voice Castiel had used when he opened his eyes to find Dean standing in front of him, rescuing him from the months of torture. "They're not going to hurt you. I'm here. I wont let anything happen to you."

Castiel's hand reached down to the inside of his elbow, scratching the place where the needle was under his skin and Dean knew that was what had set him off. Annoyed, Castiel pulled the needle out from the the inside of his elbow and threw it on the floor.

With a few slow steps, Dean had covered the distance between the two and his hand reached out, palm up, offering Castiel to take it. The angel hesitantly put his hand in Dean's, but at the feeling of Castiel's cold skin against his, Dean pulled Castiel up against him. Castiel went willingly, using the thumb of his other hand to gently touch Dean's lower lip, running his hand along it. "Real..." The angel muttered before he leaned down and pressed his ear against Dean's chest, listening to the heart the beat against the ribs. "Real..." The angel muttered again, finally looking up at the hunter. "My Dean."

Dean felt a shiver run through him as Castiel claimed that he was his. Right now he would give anything to get Castiel back in bed and healed, but he felt a flicker of happiness and pride when Castiel had called him that. "My angel." Dean smiled at Castiel and tugged at his hand, "Come on, let's get you back in bed."

Castiel went willingly, his cerulean eyes watching Dean's every movement as he helped Castiel get into bed, positioning his legs in a comfortable way and pulling the sheet over him. "Ready?" Dean asked, forcing a smile on his lips. Castiel nodded and the nurses began again, throwing away everything that touched the floor and grabbing sterile items and new gloves. Dr. Carter placed a soft hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.

Then the male nurse came forward with another I.V. needle and Castiel's eyes went wide, fear dilating the pupils.

"It's okay, they're not gonna hurt you. I promise." Dean murmured, gently grasping Castiel's wrist and holding out his arm for the nurse.

As soon as the nurse got the I.V. needle into Castiel's arm the angel was yelling in fear again, betrayal written on his face."You said they wouldn't hurt me! You promised they wouldn't hurt me any more! Dean! Please!" Castiel bucked up out of bed and Dean threw his body across his friend, fearing he would hurt himself again.

Fear was on everyone's face in the room and the doctor grabbed a syringe off the metal tray and placed it on the holder of the I.V. tube, watching the amber liquid rush down the tube and into Castiel's arm. Everyone was holding Castiel down and Dean was whispering words of nonsense into Castiel's ear as he yelled and pleaded with Dean.

Soon, Castiel had stopped fighting and his face took on a slacken effect and his words slurred. "You promised, Dean. Don't hurt me." Those were the last words from Castiel before he became unconscious due to the medicine.

"Cas... You know me and I will let you down." Dean replied, feeling Castiel's grip on his relax and a small smile pass over the angel's lips as he shrugged and rolled his head in the other direction.

The room was silent for a few seconds before it bustled to life, the nurses began to clean and analyze Castiel's body, calling in for all the tests they would need to preform on him. One of them reached up to move Castiel's head to the side, resulting in the loud crack of bones, signaling that his jaw was dislocated and had been multiple times.

Dean bit his lip, thinking about how Castiel must have struggled against the pain to form his words and his mind could only fathom why Castiel's jaw was broken. Immediately thinking of Castiel biting down on a body part of a demon, his screams echoing through the room before he broke the angels jaw in order for his pleasure to continue without any more interruptions.

Dr. Carter ushered them out of the room with a stack of forms to fill out giving them an estimate of when Castiel would be able to be moved into trauma.

Dean and Sam waited, filling out the forms to the best of their knowledge and faking the information that they did not know, and made sure they would not leave a trail. Dean had observed that Castiel had taken off Jimmy's wedding ring and as far as the brothers knew, there was no wallet hiding in the trench coat pockets with more information.

It seemed as if the past week with little sleep was catching up to Sam, and his eyes kept fluttering shut and his head would lower. A few times he caught himself and jerked upright, eyes wild and surprised, only to repeat the action a few minutes later. Dean watched his brother fight sleep, a small smile curling up the corner of his tight lips. Eventually, Sam's head rolled to his shoulder and he fell asleep this time, not even bothering to attempt to keep himself awake anymore.

The papers had almost all been filled out, only one area was causing him trouble, and Dean was staring at the line in deep concentration. Last name. Deciding that Castiel's last name really did not matter since he would be almost impossible to track, Dean wrote down 'Novak' in a hasty scribble and placed the papers attached to a clipboard on the small table next to him. He did not want to think about this anymore, the paper, Castiel's condition, his confusion, and the fact that he had lied to Castiel.

Lying to Castiel was not anything new, but his desire to protect the angel that was curled into his arms had taken priority to any other emotion or thought within him. Now Castiel was human. He was frail. He was able to die. He was... like Dean.

Annoyed at where his thoughts were taking him, Dean grabbed the first magazine he could get his hands on. '**Out'**.

"Lovely." Dean muttered, flipping through the pages and seeing the half dressed men in compromising poses. '_I could do that.'_ Dean tried to convince himself, feeling suddenly self conscious about his body. The muscles that moved just under the skin and the scars that traversed his body, each having a story behind them. Though, instead of dwelling on himself he found an article about Gillian Anderson and the struggle with her sexuality as a teenager. If it was one thing Dean could appreciate, it was Gillian Anderson. He spent a few minutes staring at the pictures of her, before his eyes glazed over the text.

A nurse came over as took the clipboard and from Dean and he barely even looked up to acknowledge her, attempting to take in what the article was talking about. Sighing, the hunter closed the magazine, reaching up to rub his eyes. Everything seemed rather blurry and out of focus and he knew that his mind was becoming dull due to lack of sleep.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Dean realized that they had already been in the hospital for three hours. Today had already been a long day including the time it took to drive the rest of the way to Springfield, rescuing Castiel, and waiting in the hospital. A small sigh escaped the mans lips as he slid down in his seat, resting his chin against his chest and letting himself fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

"Dean and Sam Smith?" A voice called Dean out of his sleep. He attempted to ignore it until he felt the start of another body next to him. Opening his eyes, squinting at the figure in front of him, Dean saw that Sam had sat straight up, surprise marring the features on his face.

"Alaina Carter." The doctor said, as if they could have forgotten her in the... Dean glanced at the clock. _Shit. _Five hours since they saw her. "I'm here about your fiancee, Castiel." The woman said in Dean's direction.

Dean cleared his throat, but Sam beat him to it. "How is he?" His voice cracking halfway through the comment from sleep.

She sighed, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "He's doing much better, but we've had to keep him sedative. Every time the anesthesia wore off he would begin to fight and struggle. This makes me worried about his mental state of mind. I've looked over his injuries and they've been sustained for quite a few months. How have you not noticed them before if you're engaged to him?" She asked, curiosity and dread lining her voice.

"I've been away. Deployed. I just got back." Dean lied, biting the inside of his cheek. He knew it would seem suspicious that he hadn't seen Castiel's wounds before now, but there are few reasons why someone has been away from their fiancee for six months.

"Oh. I see." Alaina nodded, before she looked down at the clipboard in her hands. "Well... Castiel will be in pain for a while so we're going to keep him on pain medications. I suggest he stay here and get treated and watched to make sure he'll heal properly. Plus if anything else happens to pop up, we can take care of that as well."

The brothers grimaced at that, having no desire to stay in Massachusetts, much less this hospital. They knew the three of them would be safer at Bobby's than anywhere else.

Alaina noticed their reactions and she raised her eyebrows slightly. "The damage that was done to his body was phenomenal. I'm surprised he survived." She flipped over a paper on his clipboard. "Internal damage, concussion, broken fingers, broken jaw, lacerations, what seems to be cult carvings on his body, infinite bruises, signs of rape-"

"Yeah, yeah, we get the idea, sweetie." Dean interrupted the doctor, feeling a wave a nausea wash over him.

"What I am saying is that Castiel is in no position to leave this hospital." Doctor Carter finished with, a flash of anger in her eyes from the name she was called. From her face, the brothers could tell that she did not believe a word of the story that had created. And it caused Dean to wonder why she had not called them out on it yet.

Dean stood, green eyes watching the doctors movements. As Dean was about to open his mouth and come back with a retort, Sam stood and stepped in between the two, placing a hand gently on his brother's chest. "We understand, I guess we will just have to see what the patient decided when he wakes up."

Alaina opened her mouth and hesitated before she closed it, forming her lips into a sweet smile, one that she had obviously practiced for situations like this. "I guess you're right." She nodded her head politely to them and then turned to walk away.

"Wait." Dean called out watching the Doctor turn around. "When can we see my..." Dean hesitated at the word, "Fiancee?"

Alaina smiled at them, a real one that showed genuine enjoyment in her job of helping people. "I'll have a nurse alert you to when the sedative wears off and you can visit him. But if he begins to struggle or is uncooperative in any way, we will have to restrain him using chemicals."

Sam and Dean nodded as she walked away and sat back down in their chairs. Dean glanced over at his brother and saw him repeatedly tucking some hair behind his ear, a nervous habit he had.

At the moment, Dean was going to ignore it, focusing on the time when they could see Castiel and make sure that everything was going to be fine with the angel.

* * *

A nurse approached them as Dean was tapping his foot impatiently against the linoleum floor and Sam was working hard at not nodding off again. She smiled at them, "Sam and Dean Smith?" The two men stood up and nodded. "If you follow me, I'll bring you to Castiel's room. He's beginning to wake up from the sedative so he will be slightly groggy. But also, be aware that there might be psychological damage which can change him."

Dean's body tensed when she mentioned psychological damage and he glanced over at Sam who shrugged his shoulders. He knew his brother was remembering the way Castiel had acted in the parking lot and also the fit he had in the hospital room. But they both kept silent, willing the cheery nurse to continue to talk about nothing in particular. She was probably used to this, knowing that the family members wanted to see the person they brought in, but unsure as to the condition they would be in. Her gray eyes turned to glace back at them, making sure they were following and the brothers gave her a weak smile in return.

The nurse knew where she was going, but to Dean and Sam it felt as if they were wandering around the hospital. Eventually, the nurse stopped outside their destination. "Here's Mr. Novak's room. I'm sure I'll see you later!" She said in a equally happy voice that matched her face.

The brothers watched her go and Dean snorted, "Yeah right." He turned, resting his hand on the handle of the door, noticing the thin manilla envelope that rested in a tray holder on the wall. It was labeled 'C. Novak' and Dean had the strongest urge to open it and read what was inside. Deciding he was better than that, Dean pushed open the door and entered, glancing around. Sam followed in behind him, shutting the door gently.

Castiel was resting on a hospital bed, a white sheet pulled up around his body, resting halfway up his chest. The sheet was taunt from his arms resting above it, pinching it against his body. He was small, smaller than he had ever been, bones sticking out of his skin making him seem almost fragile and breakable. The skin that wasn't bruised was pale and a thin sheen of sweet covered his exposed skin. Castiel had been cleaned up and now Dean could see the extent of the damage. The bandages that covered some area of his arms, the stitches, the bruises. Dean almost wanted to turn away, but Sam moved past him and stood at the foot of the bed, surveying the angel.

Biting his lip, the older brother moved towards Castiel as well, reaching up and running his hand through the dark hair that fell across Castiel's forehead, a dark contrast to his pale skin.

A small murmur passed from Castiel's lips as if the touch had awaken him and through swollen eyes he tried to look at who it was.

"Hey Cas." Dean murmured, smiling at the angel. "How are you doing?"

Castiel took a few seconds to reply, re-orienting himself. "I feel horrible."

Dean chuckled, in such a simple sentence, the angel had conveyed so much and Dean could feel a weight lifted from his shoulders. Castiel would be alright, he knew this now. "I know. It's because you're going to be a human for a while."

Castiel's eyes had almost opened to their full size, but Dean could see that he was drowsy and unfocused. "I know." Castiel mimicked, a small frown creasing his lips, unhappiness sluggishly forming onto his face. Dean stood up straight, removing his hand from Castiel's hair but the angel grabbed his wrist, holding it tight and close to his body. "You're not going to leave are you?"

"No, the three of us will leave together." Dean replied, glancing over at Sam who was still staring at Castiel, trying to get over the shock of his condition.

Castiel nodded, relaxing his tight grip on Dean wrist. "Together. When are we going to go?" There was hope in Castiel's eyes and Dean was positive that the emotion had not been there for months.

Sam spoke before Dean could. "Whenever you're ready, Cas. No rush." Dean knew that Sam did this incase Dean was going to pressure the angel to leave this instant.

Castiel nodded, his hand slipping from Dean's wrist, falling against his chest in a dull _thud_. "Tomorrow morning." Castiel's eyes had begun to close before he forced them back open. "I just want one night of sleep, I apologize if it is any inconvenience."

Dean glanced at the clock and glanced at Sam with a shrug. Waiting until morning would do them all good, especially Castiel.

"No inconvenience, Cas," Sam said, his fingers nervously playing with the thread of the sheet. "It's your decision."

Castiel nodded, but they were not sure if the angel had heard or even understood them. As silence passed over the room except for the machines monitoring Castiel's vital signs, and the brothers decided it was their turn to leave.

As Dean turned a hand bumped into his arm as if someone was trying to grab it. Glancing down, Dean saw Castiel's hand moving sluggishly as if he was drugged.

"Dean..." Castiel murmured.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean replied bending down so he was closer to the angel.

"I'm sorry." Castiel replied quietly before his breath returned to an even and deep tempo, alerting Dean that the angel was asleep.

Dean stood there confused and worried for a second before Sam tapped him on the arm and ushered his out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PG-13.  
**Warnings:** Swearing and references to rape.**  
**

**A/N: **This is a shout out. I really want to thank Celphius for everything. You really are amazing and your comments on both of my stories make me so happy. Thank you so much. I'll stop before I get too sappy =]

I had to separate this chapter into two parts or I feared it would be way too long to read. Chapter eight will be out next Sunday! Feel free to review.

Enjoy reading! Thank you.

Chapter Seven

Dean had memorized the posters on the walls, the only mar against the white plaster, carefully avoiding looking at the Oral Hygiene poster. He could take blood pouring out of a jagged cut in the skin, a decapitated body, or major organs splashed across the wall, but he was unable to see a mouth full of blackened cavities and raw skin. Going to a dentist was not something the Winchesters did often, the same with a doctor, only when it was absolutely necessary. They tried to imprint on the human reality as little as they could. In the position they were in it was better for them to just stick to the "imagined" supernatural side of the world. So far it had only benefited them with a few scars, mental problems, and losses as "small" details.

The chairs in the waiting room had long ago become uncomfortable, numbing their backside, causing the hunters to readjust their positions every hour or so in order to feel the blood flowing through them. People came and left the waiting room, their faces blurring into the next person who took the vacated seat. Only Dean and Sam stayed, taking turns at napping through the night, their paranoia at a record high. Sam had brought up the fear that the demon who survived was still searching for Castiel. Wanting to extract the rest of his revenge. In Castiel's vulnerable state, they both knew that could only mean death. A fear went through Dean, he had lost the angel for six months, there was no way he would let the angel go again. They needed him, Dean needed him and now they had him back. Castiel may have been a dick in the past, but now Dean considered him one of his closest friends and he knew he couldn't loose anyone else. He had sacrificed so much and lost almost everything, why couldn't he deserve some happiness. But that wasn't the case. Nothing ever went in Dean's favor, so every cell in his body was tingling, telling him to run as far away from this as possible. He did not merit happiness. He did not deserve to have friends. He was destined to die in this godforsaken profession, trying to make something of himself, but never being able to be recognized.

So Dean decided they would take shifts sleeping and watching. Though, due to the fact that Castiel was probably asleep across the hospital it seemed as if it would do very little to benefit the angel. Although they both agreed and now Sam was asleep in the chair next to Dean, his head hanging low against his shoulder, a small snore coming from him from the new position he was sleeping in. This left the older brother to stare around the waiting room, seeing nurses and CNA's running around the area, going where they were ordered and doing what they could.

Doing this felt unusual for Dean. Sitting for hours with nothing to do, just waiting. For years he had followed his fathers orders and kept the peace in the family. Protect Sammy. That was ingrained in his mind. The order above all orders. But when Sam went to Stanford, he went where Dean could not follow. Years of anger and regret brewed in the older brother. Sam had gotten the chance that Dean never had, to lead a normal life, to get out while he could. But Dean knew his priorities. His family came first and if Sam was willing to turn his back on everything than Dean would never become like him. So he stayed, following John's order and helping his father. His father who had a problem,bthat was just the way it is. He would rather live and die with it than attempt to make peace with himself. His father's body too young to look like his did, haunted eyes that looked too old, to full of knowledge. Someone had to take care of him, to help him. So that was what Dean did. But his father had died, years ago, leaving turmoil and confusion in his wake as well as a broken family trying to keep it together as best they could. But Sam was with him and the priority to protect had returned, remembering everything his father had taught him, knowing that he had taught Sam everything. John Winchester was too much of a busy man with his plan for revenge to care that his oldest son was teaching his youngest one everything about the world.

And now there was Castiel. The order to protect returning with the angel's fragile vessel and the new human body he inhabited.

The waiting was not all bad, of course, Dean had the urge to jump up every time a nurse came relatively close to them. Since no staff approached them he assumed that Castiel was sleeping through the night with out a problem. After leaving Castiel's room, Dean had noticed that his silver ring was missing and cursed his lack of knowledge, assuming it was on the floor of the warehouse, covered in blood. Dean knew he wouldn't be returning to the building anytime soon so he just accepted his loss.

Plus, the waiting gave him time to think, something he avoided as much as possible. Two months ago he had been plagued with his first dream of Castiel. And even though multitudes of days had passed since then, he remembered the dream clearly. He could conjure up the image of Castiel's wide blue eyes, fear filtering in and the blood leaking from a shallow cut on his forehead. Dean could remember himself gasping for air as hands squeezed Castiel's windpipe, color draining from his face as he could feel whatever was done to Castiel, done to himself. The intrusion into his body. That was the worst part. He was embarrassed for himself and had no desire to think about what emotions Castiel would feel at that. A powerful angel of the Lord forced to have his grace be confined like a human and raped over and over since the torture never seemed enough for the demons who desired mental and emotional abuse as powerful tools.

This experience had made him feel closer to Castiel, as if he was there as well and had the ability to relate. Though Dean knew this was far from the case, he had no clue many of the things that Castiel had been through, the only knowledge he had was what he had gleamed from the small flashes. Through this bond, as Isfahar had called it.

All Dean wanted to do was to help the angel as best as he could. Sam had tried to bring it up to him before Dean had rewrapped his coat around him, smelling like blood and the deep scent of nature, and pretended to be sleeping. Sam claimed that they needed to take it slow and tackle the problem one step at a time. Castiel needed to go his own pace and pushing him out of the hospital and to Bobby's house was not a good idea unless Castiel wanted it. Dean had grunted in response and closed his eyes, turning his body slightly away from his brother. But the harsh lights of the waiting room had bore beneath his eyelids causing him get a fitful sleep. An hour or two later, Sam was shaking his brother awake from a nightmare. Jerking awake Dean gasped, glancing down at his hands to see the lack of blood and the fresh, tan skin. Callouses had grown there from years of hard work, fingernails jagged and some broken and badly healed fingers, but they were his hands. There was nothing that would prove his years of perfecting torture techniques on countless souls. First cutting into them and having them please him much like he had pleased other demons in the reign of hell.

Dean forced a smile onto his pale lips, the sheen of sweat on his face did not go unnoticed by Sam, and blamed the lights in the room. Sam understood, the simplest things could set Dean off and even though it had been a few weeks since the last nightmare and it left the younger brother worried. Sam tried not to let it show as he crossed his long arms across his body and rested his head on his chest, falling asleep shortly afterwards leaving Dean alone with the white walls and his thoughts.

Broken.

It was a simple word that described so much. It could have so many different meaning and so many different scenarios.

It was Dean Winchesters definition. He was in a word, broken. His life, his soul, his heart. He was broken. And no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he knew he was dead inside. Famine had confirmed it for him. He wanted nothing more for life, but he kept going because it was required or him. He felt like he was living on auto-pilot and if he happened to die then it would finally be a relief. He could stop the facade of pretending to be whole, pretending that nothing was affecting him. Pretending to be who he was before.

Dean was broken. He was hurting, he was dying and slowly loosing touch with actuality and dire needs.

But Goddammit if he was going to let Castiel feel that way. Dean knew he would do anything to make sure Castiel never felt the way. The hunter's emotions may have been jumbled about the angel, struggling to figure out why he was feeling this way, but he knew he had to protect Castiel from the empty and hollow feeling Dean now had lingering inside him.

* * *

As the sun appeared over the horizon it light the waiting room in a light orange color with a tint of pink. Sam was still asleep, blissfully unaware of anything going on in the world. Dean had not dared to wake his brother and attempt sleep again, his nightmare still fresh in his mind causing him unease every time his thoughts lingered on it. Mainly he dreamt about what he did to the other souls, not the pain he had endured himself. He would go through centuries of torture just to erase what he had done. If only he had known that the first time he raised that knife it would begin the apocalypse. Instead he had sliced in with vigor, a sick, twisted smile appearing as he heard the woman beg for it to end, screaming that she did not belong in such a place. A small shiver went through him and Dean stood, stretching his stiff body and feeling some of his tendons loosen and his joints giving loud, satisfying pops.

Dean glanced back at Sam, deciding a small walk would be fine as long as he was back before Sam awoke. In the early hours of the morning few people were in the waiting room, many were just people who had embodied excess amount of liquor. Some haggard nurses were still moving from room to room, taking care of patients and reading charts, but they were able to keep a pleasant smile on, nodding and greeting him as he passed.

It was as if his feet moved on their own accord, walking the route the nurse had taken them yesterday, leading him outside of Castiel's room. The folder was still there, the 'C. Novak' tempting him as he glanced in through the small door window. Dean's hand was outstretched for the folder before the sight in the room caused him to freeze.

The bed was empty.

In a hurried rush, Dean pushed open the door, almost tripping on the edge with his rush to get in.

The sheets were folded back neatly, as if whoever left the bed had taken their time, but that didn't deter Dean from spinning around the room to see if Castiel was still there.

"Dean." A gravely voice said quietly, causing the hunter to turn towards it.

A sigh of relief left Dean's lips as he saw Castiel standing next to the window. The hues from the sunlight casting shadows across the angel's face. It made him look healthier than he was, but it also highlighted the lines of fear and worry that seemed to appear since the last time Dean had seen him six months ago. One of the angel's hands rested on the metal pole he had wheeled over to the window, it held the I.V. bag and was pumping heavy medications into Castiel. The black hair on top of his head was messed up, but it stuck to him as if he was sick and Dean guess he hadn't been getting enough to eat or the proper nutrients from Castiel's pale skin and the way that the small gown hugged his small and frail looking body.

"Castiel... you're... what are you doing out of bed?" Dean asked, walking over to the window. Castiel's eyes turned away from the hunter to look at the rising sun. Dean followed his gaze, waiting for him to speak.

"I... I haven't seen the sunrise in many months." He finally admitted watching as some more of the sun began to appear over the edge. "It was hard to sleep anyways."

Silence was held between them and Dean turned his eyes from the sunrise to watch the way the color reflected around Castiel's blue iris's. Dean understood. Castiel had never really slept before. He had always been awake for the sunrises and the fact that he body was tired and he needed sleep was foreign and new to him. Dean wondered if Castiel even knew how to fall asleep. For a human it shouldn't be difficult, but for someone who was brand new to it, the first few times might be slightly confusing unless they happened to pass out from exhaustion.

After the sun had risen most of the way up Dean cleared his throat, drawing Castiel's gaze to him. "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

A flash of fear crossed Castiel's eyes and Dean knew the look. It was the same one he had after he had waken from a nightmare. The few times he was able to wake himself up from a nightmare he had left the motel room to stand over the sink in the bathroom, fearing that he would wake Sam up. And while he contemplated his face in the mirror, the face of a damaged man, he had seen the fear.

"Now?" Castiel asked, gesturing at the sunrise. "But..."

Dean smiled, gently placing his hand on Castiel's shoulder and was surprised that the angel did not even flinch. "There will be another one tomorrow." Psychological problems. That was what the doctor had told Sam and Dean and he wondered if nightmares would be a new acquisition with this. Dean just hoped that Castiel would get away from this unscathed and better.

Castiel turned and began to walk towards the bed, bringing the metal I.V. pole with him. "Tomorrow." He nodded as if he liked the sound of that. Once they reached the bed, Castiel sat on the side and swung his legs onto it. The nightgown rode up his thighs and Dean could see the handprint bruises that overlapped each other on the skin. Dean hissed at the sight and closed his eyes, fighting the onslaught of anger that whelmed inside him. Castiel glanced down at his thighs and his eyes widened, startled at the hunters reaction. "My apologies." Castiel muttered, his deep voice echoing around the silent room. Dean opened his eyes as Castiel was pulling down the edge of the gown. Dean reached out and stilled Castiel's fidgeting hands pulling down the nightgown to the angel's knees himself. "My injuries are disgusting, I know."

It was Dean's turn to be startled at the bluntness of the comment. "Oh. No, Cas. They're not. The people who did this to you are." The hunter growled, feeling the raw anger pulsate out of his voice as he pulled the sheet up over Castiel's body seeing his small frame shiver at the chill from the sheets and the anger.

Castiel shook his head vigorously, his head flopping from side to side. "I let them do this to me. I'm the abomination here."

Dean pulled the thicker blanket from the bottom of the hospital bed over Castiel, seeing the angel clutch onto it gratefully. "Castiel, listen to me." The soldier's blue eyes seemed to bore into Deans. "You couldn't help it. What they did to you... We're going to get through this, alright? I promise."

Castiel seemed to relax slightly at his words and Dean reached up to push some of Castiel's black hair off his forehead. The conversation was veering into the too emotional side for Dean, but he figured he could sacrifice some of his manliness if it meant that Castiel would feel better about himself. At the moment it seemed as if Castiel was not in the right mental or physical state for Dean to tell him to suck it up and keep going. What just mattered was that they could pull themselves together and keep going and they could work that out, get there together.

"I trust you, Dean." Castiel murmured, eyes closed when the hunter touched his hair. "Always."

A small pang of guilt rippled through Dean as he thought about all the times he had let the angel down and given him no reason to trust him. "That's good, Cas." They would need trust to get through this. "Sleep well. We'll come see you when you wake up."

Dean reached down and squeezed Castiel's hand, feeling a warm piece of metal in the angel's palm. Dean moved to let go, but Castiel just held onto his hand. "Please, don't let me fall asleep alone." The plea left the angel's lips and his eyes drowsily opened to observe the hunter's face.

Dean's hand was released and he saw his silver ring in the palm of Castiel's hand. Once Dean's palm left Castiel's, he closed his hand around the ring as if it was keeping him alive, keeping him sane and in this reality.

"Okay." Dean nodded, sitting in the chair that was positioned next to the bed, watching Castiel's eyes flutter shut. He knew this wouldn't take long as the angel was already fading from consciousness when he had asked Dean to stay. It seemed as if he was working hard against the drugs that the doctors were giving him. Within a few minutes, Castiel had shifted onto his side towards Dean and his breathing became deep and regular signaling that he was fast asleep.

The sun had risen fully past the horizon bathing everything in a soft, yellow, morning light. It made the person in the bed look years younger and the sleep seem to fade the extra lines the years had been created. It was as if the years of hardships had never happened. The angel and the vessel had been going non-stop for years and Dean wondered if there was ever a chance or a probability of Castiel and Jimmy burning up. The scene in front of him caused Dean's lips to quirk up in a smile, a very rare occurrence, and he reached out to smooth some of the dark hair out of the angels face once more. No. Castiel and Jimmy were both strong. Everything would be okay in the end. It had to be, just this once.

"Goodnight, Cas." Dean whispered, his hand retreated from Castiel's face as he stood and quietly left the room, retracing the route to the waiting room, hoping he had not spent too much time away from his brother.

Sam was still asleep in the waiting room, practically falling into Dean's vacated seat. It seemed with the coming morning, it also brought more people who needed treatment. The people who could wait through the night but not go through the day. New nurses and CNA's in scrubs came and replaced the ones working the night shifts, cheerily greeting one another and informing them on the necessary tasks and patients.

"Sammy." Dean called, standing in front of his brother and waiting for his reaction. None came and Dean reached out and pushed his brother's shoulder, watching with a satisfied grin as Sam's body began to tilt, building momentum and landed in the chair next to him. Startled eyes opened as he rolled off the chair and onto the floor at Dean's feet.

A sleepy voice grumbled up to Dean. "Not funny."

Dean chuckled, watching as Sam reached up and pushed some of his long hair out of his face, eyes rapidly adjusting to the natural sunlight streaming in through the windows. Sam had always been better at waking up faster than Dean, but Dean knew he could run on less sleep than his brother. "I'm going to get some breakfast. You want anything?"

"More sleep." Sam grumbled from his prone position on the floor. He finally pushed himself up with one hand and hoisted him back into the seat that he had previously left. Thinking about it, Sam finally responded with, "Fruit."

"You're such a girl." Dean answered, disgust showing on his face that Sam actually wanted him to buy something healthy. "Whatever, you'll get your fruit."

"Dean, no pie for breakfast, please." Sam begged, swiping a hand over his eyes as he straightened himself in his seat.

Dean just shook his head and turned, leaving Sam behind as he exited the hospital and headed towards his baby. Sucking it up, he glanced into the back seat, noticing it did not look as bad as he feared it would. Nothing a little bleach couldn't fix. As long as a police officer did not pull him over he was sure everything would be alright. Moving to the trunk of the Impala, Dean unlocked it and grabbed a clean rag and the small bottle of bleach he kept and swished the contents around in the bottle. Opening the back of the car Dean was overwhelmed with the onslaught of last night, holding the seizing Castiel in his arms, fearing for the worse and then the relief he felt as Castiel's fingers traced over his lower lip and promised to stay. Biting his lip as hard as he could, almost drawing blood, Dean poured some bleach on the rag and began to clean the back seat of the car. The blood came off easily enough from the leather seat leaving no trace that there had ever been a battered body laying there. But as he worked, there was a sick twisting in his stomach as the blood was transferred to the white rag. It was not a lot, but on the rag it seemed triple the amount of blood that was there originally.

Once the chore was done, he locked the equipment back in the trunk, rolling down the windows to air out the smell. Although, he much preferred the bleach to the stench of blood and iron he still wrinkled his nose as he get into the Impala and started it, peeling out of the parking lot on a mission to find some food.

* * *

It was nearing the end of morning when the brothers were ushered into Castiel's room, a new nurse leading them there. She congratulated Dean and Castiel on their engagement and asked some small details that Dean was able to avoid by claiming that they had not begun planning yet. Dean sent a small confused glance at Sam which the nurse caught.

"Sorry, are you not from Massachusetts? We're the first state to allow same-sex marriage so we're pretty open around here." The nurse beamed, "Though there are other states that don't allow it. To each their own." She turned down a corridor and Dean recognized Castiel's door and he felt himself relax a little. The woman may have been supportive of their marriage, which seemed to run through the hospital, and for all Dean knew, the state of Massachusetts as well, but they had no clue what was actually going on with Castiel and Dean.

After a quick goodbye, the nurse left to continue on with her work day. Dean and Sam shared a glance between them before they opened the door and entered the room. Dean first glanced at the bed and saw the sheets folded in their perfect crease without a person in them. On instinct he turned towards the window and saw Castiel, once again, staring outside. The view was not even that good, it was of a small brick building across the street from the hospital and a parking lot full of beaten up cars.

Castiel did not even acknowledge their arrival. "The foliage will be changing soon." He paused, finally glancing over at them. "I guess I thought I was gone for a longer time."

"You were gone long enough." Dean growled, glancing over at Sam who was taking in Castiel's appearance again. The way Sam was looking at Castiel made Dean feel awkward. Sam acted like Castiel was going to break, any second the angel was going to be screaming and attempting to hurt himself or hurt them. As time passed, Sam noticed that Castiel was displaying none of these attributes, instead, staring pensively at the trees that lined the street outside.

Finally Castiel turned towards them, a small dopey smile on his face, his blue eyes clouded and unfocused.

"Cas..." Sam muttered, "What did they give you?" The brothers shared a glance with each other and Dean knew that the angel had not looked this spaced out this morning.

"I don't know." Castiel answered honestly, "Some painkiller. It's rather pleasant. Can we take some with us?" His unfocused eyes trained on Dean and it seemed as if a small spark of recognition appeared in his eyes until it was faded over with drugs. "This is yours." He murmured, holding out his hand palm up.

Dean's silver ring lay flat in the angels palm, seeming massive compared to the long, thin, pale fingers that spread out in front of it. The strong hands that could smite a demon right out of someones body now seemed small and fragile, almost feminine.

"I took it." Castiel admitted. "It kept me grounded. It let me know that I wasn't dreaming. That this was real." He chuckled. "They kept telling me that you wouldn't come for me, that I should stop screaming your name when they hurt me. I guess it was rather embarrassing that I was yelling for a mere mortal to save me. But they said you wouldn't want me. Not when they were through with me. Who would want a damaged angel. All I was good for was fucking and even than..." Sam and Dean flinched at Castiel's words though neither stopped him, neither of them knew what to do. "But, well, you came for me anyways and you promised me we would get through this... whatever this is. I feel perfectly fine. Like I'm flying, but I'm on the ground." Castiel took a step towards Dean holding his hand out still, waiting for Dean to take the ring.

Sam clearing his through bright Dean back and he shook his head. "It's okay Cas, you keep it for now."

Castiel's eyes widened and he smiled, his pink lips turning upward, a movement that seemed out of character on the usual stoic and impassive face. In a few quick movements Castiel had covered the ground between them and pulled Dean into a hug, resting his head in the crook of Dean's neck and sighed. "Thank you, Dean."

"No problem." Dean muttered awkwardly, patting Castiel's back but not pulling him in for a full hug. After a few seconds Castiel still hadn't let go and Dean glanced over at Sam who shrugged. "Cas?"

Castiel finally let go and glanced at Dean, a small smile on his face, "Yes?"

"I don't think we'll bring any of those painkillers back with us."

Castiel's face fell into disappointment and he shrugged, "Okay... But... what do we do now?" He looked confused as if he was unable to tell the steps of a certain routine. Panic flashed across his face looking so raw and emotional it almost hurt Dean to watch. "Dean!" The deep voice commanded. "Tell me what to do!"

Sam stepped forward fearing that his brother would attempt to push Castiel into doing something he did not want to do. He meant it as a comforting gesture, but Castiel did not seem to take it that way. Noticing Sam's approach Castiel jumped back, away from Sam, pulling the metal I.V. pole by the tube. It crashed to the floor, startling the angel who only crouched to the floor, pressing his chest to his knees and holding his arms over his head.

The tension between the three was almost painful. Deciding to break it before it got worse Dean knelt on the floor next to Castiel.

"Hey, it's just Sam." Dean said, placing his hand lightly on Castiel's shoulder, fearing for the worse. The angel made no move to get away from him and Dean assumed that Castiel was fine with his touch. "He's not gonna hurt you."

Castiel's eyes were squeezed shut, but he relaxed at Dean's words, his clouded eyes opening to focus on the tall man standing in the room. "Sam... Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood."

Dean grimaced at what Castiel had called his brother. "Yeah, Sam your friend."

"Friend." Castiel repeated, seemingly caught on the word. "Dean and Sam Winchester. Friends."

"You really are doped up." Dean chuckled, standing and holding his hand out to Castiel who took it and clambered to his feet.

Castiel smiled when Dean laughed seemingly pleased that he had caused Dean some enjoyment. But then his face turned serious as he seemed to be concentrating on something. The moment seemed lost as his face returned to the silly smile he had previously and he turned to look out the window. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, Castiel watching the cars go by on the road as the Winchesters worried about the medicine that Castiel was on.

"We need to leave. Right? Aren't we all leaving together? You told me yesterday that we would." Castiel asked, his voice changing from a questioning tone to an convinced tone and then back.

"That's right. We're going to leave." Dean replied, a small sigh passing between his lips as he felt his body relax slightly.

Castiel turned to look at Dean and then at Sam. He smiled at the younger brother, as if aware of his presence for the first time. "Sam?" Castiel asked, needing his approval as well.

"Of course, Cas, if that's what you want." Sam said, smiling that Castiel had asked him.

Castiel glanced out the window before bending down to pick up the metal pole. The I.V. bag was practically empty and due to the shift in the gravitational pull, no liquid was making it down to the needle in his arm. "Yes. I want to leave. Soon. Please."

* * *

**A/N: **I don't even regret how fun medicated Castiel was to write. Thank you for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PG.  
**Warnings:** References to excessive drug use and references to rape.**  
**

**A/N: **So everything's going to be a little shaky with posting this week due to the vacation I'm taking to see my high school roommate at her college across the country (I miss her and love her so much! Two and a half years is too long apart from someone I lived with for four years). I'll try to get a chapter out on Sunday but there's no guarantee since I have no clue what we'll be doing. So I'll try to get it as close to Sunday as possible.

Oh and congratulations, Olivia Eternal Song, who found the easter egg in the last chapter with a reference to Tracy Chapman's Fast Car. The next Supernatural story I will post is going to be a Supernatural fic written to the lyrics of that song. Currently my obsession =]

Enjoy reading! Thank you.

Chapter Eight

"Novak? Isn't that-"

"Shh." Dean hushed the angel, placing his hand over Castiel's lips. "Just sign the paper."

It had been only a few hours since Castiel had proclaimed that he had wanted to leave the hospital, but getting out of there was easier said than done. Especially with a medicated angel-turned-human-for-an-unknown-amount-of-time. The first problem they had run into was getting the release forms for Castiel. He had to sign a medical waiver that claimed that the hospitals and doctors were not under any legal obligation if he left the hospital and his conditioned worsened since they advised him to stay continue his treatment. But after about half an hour of talking the nurse left and came back with his medical waiver.

"So I just sign Castiel Novak." Big blue eyes blinked up at Dean, confusion marring his usually stoic face. The pen was poised in his hand, hovering inches above the paper.

Dean sighed, feeling like he had gotten more than he had bargained for, but Castiel wanted to leave, declaring multiple times that he would go where Dean went. Sam, well, he was a different story. Although Castiel was recognizing Sam as a friend and remembered him from before, Castiel had attached himself to Dean like a baby ducking seeing his mother for the first time. Dean was beginning to get creeped out by the way Castiel was looking at him even though six month ago the hunter had finally gotten used to the angel staring at him for minutes at a time as if he was reading Dean soul and turning his mind inside out.

"Yeah, Cas. Just sign it, it really isn't too difficult." The drugs could not wear off any slower. Relief had washed through the brothers when they had taken the I.V. needle out from Castiel's elbow even though it seemed as if there was a lingering effect of the medication. It made the angel erratic, unpredictable, emotionally unstable, and all-together out of character causing the Winchesters to feel uncomfortable in the Castiel's presence. The hunter was sure that Castiel would never be acting like that if he was had his full power of grace. In his limited form he was struggling with all the situations a human would have.

The angel heeded Dean's words and brought the pen to the paper, carefully writing a line and then a symbol that looked like a backwards three. Dean grabbed Castiel's wrist and pulled his hand away from the paper a tight lipped smile forming. "No, in English." Dean growled quietly, glancing at the nurse in the room who was organizing something over in the corner of the room.

Surprise dawned on Castiel's face before he looked at the paper again and Dean let go of his wrist, watching as the angel scribbled out the beginning of Enochian symbols and wrote his name in a delicate cursive script. Dean couldn't help appreciating the beauty in which the letters of the name flowed across the line. They way Castiel wrote in cursive looked like the writing in the old bibles back when the monks wrote them by hand. He entertained the thought that Castiel spent some time on Earth as a monk, writing the bibles and becoming aggrieved by the way that humans had changed the word of God.

The noise of a pen dropping on the paper brought Dean back to the present as Castiel pushed the rolling table away from him and heaved the covers off his body. When the nurse had come in that morning Castiel had told him he was leaving. The look the angel gave him when he attempted to argue that staying in the hospital would benefit him caused Dean to fear that Castiel would smite that dark skim man wearing light green scrubs.

"_I will not stay in this building one moment longer than necessary!" Castiel growled causing the nurse to step back in surprise at the vehemence in his voice. "I shall leave, and we can either do this the proper way or I can make this very arduous. For surely you, human, cannot tell me what I can or cannot do."_

_Biting his lip the nurse regained the distance, looking at the two brothers as if they could talk their friend and significant other out of a potentially hazardous situation. But Sam and Dean stayed quiet. Sam looking guiltily out the window and Dean watching Castiel's face contort with anger at being blocked from his goal and destination. The medication seemed to block the emotional inhibitors that Castiel usually had, feelings splayed across his face in rapid succession. "Mr. Novak, we would prefer that you would follow our rules and regulations for getting yourself dismissed from a hospital. But that includes a meeting with your doctor who will inform you about the damage it will do to you if you leave your treatment plan as well as some paperwork. Please reconsider your demand."_

_As the nurse talked Castiel's eyes softened and seemed to drift away, his fingers idly played along the metal pole of his I.V. holder. The voice that rumbled out of Castiel was contemplative, almost questioning, as if he was looking for the solution to the universe. "If something does not exist, does it age?"_

_The three humans in the room froze and Castiel turned to look at Dean, tilting his head, his blue eyes gauging the hunters reaction. "I dunno, man." Dean finally replied when he realized that Castiel was waiting for his answer._

"_I guess the object that does not exist does not age. But the time that it does not exist ages. Until it appears or does not. Then it shall age progressively at a normal rate if the object is present." Castiel muttered to himself, his eyes slipping away from Dean and to the nurse that was standing a few feet away from the dark-haired angel. The nurse seemed rather uncomfortable under Castiel's calculating gaze and he was about to speak before Castiel opened his mouth, seeming to remember the conversation he was having before. "I will follow your guidelines. Please, let us begin." _

_A dopey smile passed across Castiel's lips before he glanced at Sam and followed his gaze out the window, becoming entranced by whatever was out there._

Castiel had been ushered back into bed and the covers were pulled around his small frame as if trying to coax him into staying. But Castiel had been adamant... mostly... there were a few times he had faltered due to the swing of his emotions that were a fault of the pain medicine he was on.

Doctor Carter had come in and Dean now knew the extent to Castiel's injuries. The angel just stared at her with almost a stoic face, the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. Dean had to turn away from the two and chose to stare out the window with Sam although he was listening intently to every word the doctor said. Sam's body shivered with what looked like disgust and Dean could sympathize. He knew how much Castiel was hurting because of the flashes of shared memories, meanwhile Sam had walked into the storage room thinking Castiel was still in fully working angel order and hadn't been painfully tortured for almost six months. When Castiel couldn't be swayed Alaina had given him the list and extent of his injuries as well as a folder that contained pictures and evidence as well as the notes, information, and prescriptions for medication that would help him heal. Everything Castiel would need to press charges against his 'abusive ex-boyfriend' was located in there. Thankfully Castiel looked up at her in bewilderment which she took as surprise at her knowledge of the situation.

What Doctor Carter did get Castiel to agree to was getting a cast for his left wrist and hand. They were planning on operating on it later but if he was leaving the hospital and planning on not returning for any treatment than the best choice was a splint so his shattered bones might have a chance to rejoin and grow right. Dean joked with Castiel that he could have all his friends sign in. Unfortunately, Castiel had replied with a gruff, 'I have no friends, Dean.' But within a short while Castiel was sporting a white cast that went from the middle of his forearm and to the tip of his fingers. Castiel had complained multiple times that it was uncomfortable and his skin itched under it.

_As they were going over Castiel's information he turned to look at Dean when the word 'fiancée' was brought up._

"_I was unaware that we are engaged in prospect of joining bonds in marriage."_

_Dean raised his eyebrows in warning which the angel did not notice or understand. "Of course, sweetie, we've been together for over two years." Dean murmured in what he hoped was a sweet and gentle voice, mentally counting back the years from when he first saw Castiel in the barn, illuminated by the flashing of the lights, the wind sweeping around him and blowing out his trench coat, his bright blue eyes, unemotional, staring intently at Dean._

_Castiel frowned, confusion clouding his already muddled eyes. "I do not like that term of endearment. Please do not call me 'sweetie'."_

_Dean turned and looked at the nurse who was watching the interaction with slight annoyance. Flashing her one of his nicest smiles he asked, "can you excuse us for a second?" Once the nurse left Dean sighed and turned back to Castiel. "Just... do this. To get out of here." Castiel's skeptical gaze stayed fixed to his features. "Do you trust me?"_

"_Always." Castiel practically breathed out._

But now everything had been done and Castiel was free to go and the angel hopped out of bed, the nightgown falling listlessly down his thighs. The nurse came forward and grabbed the clipboard off the table and bid them goodbye.

Sam held out some clothes to Castiel who reached out and took them from the tall man, clutching them against his chest. He hadn't looked at them but he glanced between the brothers confused.

"They're clothes for you since you were naked when we brought you in yesterday." Sam answered Castiel's questioning glance.

"Oh." Castiel murmured finally looking down at the items he held in his hands. "I thought... I thought wrong then."

Dean glanced up from the pamphlet he was reading about Genital Herpes. "I wrapped you in my coat." Castiel took a second to process this information before he nodded and set the clothes down on the bed. Since Sam and Dean had been on the road for so long most of their clothes were dirty. Driving across the country on a hunch left them little time to find a laundry mat, much less use it. So with combined efforts, they were able to find enough clean clothes to give Castiel an outfit until they could get him some of his own. "We'll just be on the other side." Dean motioned to the curtain and pulled it around the bed so Castiel could get dressed with privacy.

The brothers stood there for what felt like minutes as there was silence from the other side.

"Cas?" Sam called, glancing over at Dean and listening for a reply. The clanging of something metal reached their ears and Dean shrugged. "You need some help?"

"Stupid human contraptions." Cas's muddled voice called out to them.

Sam pursed his lips and brought his the fist of his right hand to rest in the palm of his left. Dean grimaced and they hit their fists against their palm pulling a hand gesture on the third hit. At the last second Dean remembered not to play scissors, but he was a second too late as Sam beat him.

Dean ducked behind the curtain and saw what little progress Castiel had made. He had gotten on the boxers and Sam's jeans, but he was playing with the belt that Dean was loaning him, the metal part of it was what had hit the floor. The jeans rested low on Castiel's hips and Dean almost feared they would fall off. At the moment they only thing that was saving them was Castiel's prominent hip bones jutting out from his small body and Castiel trying to thread the leather belt through a loop. The angel's blue eyes glanced up at Dean and the hunter noticed the embarrassment that seemed to be written on his face. In this vulnerable state Dean could see the extent of what the six months of torture had done to his friend. He was painfully skinny, bones sticking out from underneath taunt skin which was marred and stained with cuts and overlapping bruises. Dean pulled his eyes away from Castiel's skin, trying not to linger on the red, raw cuts of the sigil on the angel's chest.

"Hey Cas, want me to help?" Dean asked, taking the few steps towards Castiel, covering the ground between them.

Dean resisted the urge to reach out and touch the sigil that was carved in the angels chest, working hard to ignore the injuries and bruises that littered Castiel's body, resting complacently on his skin. Instead he took the belt from the angel and began to thread the leather strap through the loops, not letting his eyes stray from the task. He grabbed the t-shirt off the bed, working it over the cast on Castiel's arm as the angel slipped his other arm into the sleeve and pulled it over his head. Castiel's hand rubbed over the worn shirt and hummed, enjoying the feel of the soft shirt on his battered skin. It was Dean's old shirt from a diner he really liked in Colorado. It used to be a dark shade of blue but the amount it's been worn and washed changed the texture to a soft feel and the color to a light baby blue. It rested against the bruises on Castiel's arms, blemishing against them. Next Dean grabbed Sam's plaid shirt off the bed grabbing his knife and cutting the left sleeve a little so it would go over the cast. The angel seemed to be able to shrug on the shirt relatively easy. Dean unconsciously reached up and fixed the angel's hair noticing the shirt had flattened down one side.

"Sit." Dean commanded and watched Castiel shuffle over to the bed. His movements were more methodical and slow and Dean assumed that the pain medicine was wearing off. Dean knelt on the floor, rolling up the jeans to reveal the angel's feet. Because of the height difference between Sam and Castiel the jeans were about six inches too long for Castiel. But if they rested on the proper area of the angel's hips then maybe they wouldn't be so long. Though Dean, try as he might, every time he had tried to adjust the pants to the proper area, they kept sliding back down, revealing the area of his lower stomach. He slid the black socks onto Castiel's feet and then places the ragged running sneakers on the ground for Castiel to slide into.

"I'm useless. I apologize." The deep voice rumbled, causing Dean to look up as Castiel tried to adjust his foot in the shoe.

Dean shrugs, holding his arm out to balance Castiel as he stood and put his shoes on correctly. "You're learning, you just happen to be quite a few years behind. Plus, you'll be back to full angel status in no time." Castiel leaned heavily into Dean as he rocked his heal back and forth, fixing the back of the shoe. Finally he removed his hand from Deans arm and glanced around, looking slightly lost. "Missing something?" Dean asked, glancing at the messy bed and the clean top of the table.

"I'm cold." Castiel muttered, hugging his arms to himself as if to prove the point. Dean reached out and pressed his fingertips to the back of the angels hand and felt the difference in temperature between them. Castiel had to be quite a few degrees cooler.

Dean shrugged out of his jacket and handed it over to Castiel who shoved an arm into the sleeve. A medicated smile passed over Castiel's lips as he felt the warmth lingering on the fabric. As he tied to put his other arm through the sleeve he got caught and Dean had to help him get his arm all the way through.

Once they were done Dean pulled the curtain back reveling Sam playing Tetris on his phone as he leaned against the wall.

"Ready?" Sam asked and Castiel nodded heading towards the door only wavering off his path slightly as the brothers followed behind him.

Once they were outside the room Sam took the lead heading towards the exit of the hospital closest to the Impala. They passed the waiting room and Sam turned, entering the men's bathroom. Castiel stopped and tilted his head at the sign next to the door before he glanced at Dean.

Dean shrugged, "might as well." The hunter entered the bathroom and Castiel followed him. They each were in different stalls and Sam and Dean had finished and were waiting outside Castiel's stall. They both felt awkward but were not willing to leave the angel alone just yet. In order to relieve the tension the brothers attempted to make some small talk.

"So we'll head to Bobby's. We can probably make it in two days if we really push it." Sam said loudly, overcompensating for the silence that surrounded them in the bathroom.

"We'll call him when we leave this building that way he know's we're coming." Dean interjected, glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

"Okay." Sam replied, a slight grimace on his face as he realized this left them with nothing but silence surrounding them.

After a few seconds Dean hesitantly called out, "Cas?" When there was no reply Dean's face flushed, a light red tinting his cheeks. "We gotta go eventually. So if you could..."

"Yes, Dean... I just..." Cas's voice came back to Dean and he could hear the same useless tone as before. Castiel was thinking he was hopeless and Dean felt bad for the angel, wishing that Castiel knew what to do but knowing better, knowing that the angel was confused. Dean had thought that the sounds of urine hitting the water would have given Castiel the proper idea.

"Just unbutton and un-zip your pants and go from there." Dean called out, seeing Sam pointedly looking anywhere but at him.

The noise of Castiel fumbling with his pants and the noise of a zipper sliding down with unsteady hands reached his ears and Dean relaxed his shoulders knowing half the battle was over already. But still nothing was happening and Sam finally looked at Dean his face of confusion and apprehension matching his own. "Can't I just hold it until I heal." Castiel's embarrassed voice reached them.

"No, come on, man, you gotta go." Dean replied even though he had no desire to talk to an angel about relaxing muscles and letting go. Instead he stayed quiet, taking a few steps towards the mirror and fixing the hem of his shirt.

"Well then can you leave. It is awfully hard to concentrate on urinating when I can feel your presence crowding around me." With that admittance of permission Sam bolted towards the bathroom door leaving the two behind, Dean wasn't far behind.

They went over and sat in the plastic, blue, waiting chair feeling their bodies ache from uncomfortable familiarity of them. Sam turned to Dean, keeping an eye on the bathroom door as he spoke to Dean in a low voice. "Are we gonna talk about this?"

"Talk about what?" Dean snapped back, anger rising that Sam always wanted to seem to talk about something.

Sam motioned to the bathroom door before he brought his hand back to rest on the arm of the chair. "Castiel leaving the hospital."

"It's what he wants." Dean shrugged, turning to look at his brother better. "Listen, soon the sigil will heal and he'll be back to being an angel, granted, a dick angel, and fighting that wonderful war up in heaven."

"Okay, so his body will heal, but what about his mind. You got to admit, the dude's not all there."

Dean frowned wishing he could stand up and leave this conversation, unfortunately, he was waiting for a bathroom shy angel to appear from the men's room. "It's 'cause he's doped up on meds."

"Dean," Sam chided, "Are we just going to wait around until he snaps? Because I don't think that's a good option."

"What if he doesn't snap. Cas is strong, I'm sure he'll be fine."

Sam snorted, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what his brother just said. "Fine? He just spent six months being tortured, raped, and God know's what else."

"Just drop it, Sam." Dean growled, turning away from his brother and watching the bathroom door intently. "We'll deal with it as it comes. One thing at a time."

"And look at how well that always turns out." Sam muttered, turning away from Dean and watching the door as well. One thing at a time. That always got them in trouble but it was how they went about with things. Why couldn't they attempt to see the big picture? Sam had died and Dean dealt with that by selling his soul. So the next one thing they did was to try to figure out how to get Dean out of the deal, but of course they failed at that and Dean went to Hell anyways. Sam drummed his fingers absently on the chair's arm. "So about his pain medication, we're going to fill it right?" He did not want to see how Castiel would act when he could feel the pain of everything that had happened over the past six months.

"Maybe." Dean grunted, crossing his arms over his chest in a defiant action telling Sam that there were some unspoken words that his brother was holding back.

"But...?" Sam prompted, attempting to have his brother open up to him.

"I just worry that Cas will turn into the 2014 Cas." Dean muttered, his eyes slipping from the door to the white tile floor. Sam shook his head, he had not liked the story his brother had told him about that. "His eyes... they were just so dead as if he died when he became addicted, it looked like his grace had let his soul die. His eyes looked soulless. The smile was manic and crazy. And he laughed! But the way it sounded..." Dean snorted and a sad smile crossed his lips.

Sam reached out and touched Dean's shoulder in a comforting gesture, surprised by the words that came out of Dean's mouth. Of course Castiel was Dean's friend and they both counted him as their brother. But to hear these words from Dean meant that his brother cared so much for the angel that it ran past his tough, sarcastic exterior and was ingrained deep in his soul. "We've changed the future though." Sam murmured. "That wont happen."

The door to the bathroom opened, stopping their conversation, as Castiel exited the room. His cheeks were still flushed slightly pink and there were specks of water on his shirt, telling them that he had turned on the faucet too powerful. "I urinated." Castiel stated, causing some of the people in the waiting room to turn their heads and look at him oddly because of what he had declared.

Dean reached out, placing his hand on Castiel shoulder, steering him towards the exit. "Good, I'm proud of you." He replied sarcastically, earning a glare from Sam. They left the hospital and headed towards the Impala. Dean was about to get into the driver's seat when Castiel pulled on his arm his blue eyes widening when he realized that Dean wouldn't be sitting next to him. "What?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam who was standing next to the open door on the passenger's side.

"Sit with me." Castiel commanded, opening the back door of the Impala and sat on the leather seat, pulling on Dean's arm, trying to get him to sit in the back seat with him.

Sighing, the older man threw the Impala keys to his brother and slid into the back seat, closing the door next to him. Dean and Castiel sat still as Sam backed out of the parking spot and turned onto the road, heading for the West Highway towards Albany. Within minutes Sam took a right turn and smoothly merged onto the highway.

Dean glanced over at Castiel seeing his eyelids drifting down before he forced them open, attempting to stay awake. The rumble of the car and the smooth vibrations were causing Castiel to drift in and out of unconsciousness, his body tilting towards Dean each time before he was able to force himself awake. "Come on." Dean muttered, a small laugh escaping his lips as he shifted his body and pulled Castiel against him.

The angel burrowed into his warm body and Dean could still feel the intense temperature differences between them. Castiel stretched his legs across the seat that he was occupying previously. He was now sitting on Dean's lap, his head resting against Dean's chest, almost mimicking the same position Dean had carried him out of the warehouse in. "Tell me something." Castiel's voice rumbled against Dean's chest.

"What do you want to know?" Dean asked, wrapping his arms around the angel's body.

"Anything." Castiel replied sleepily.

Dean paused for a moment, glancing up to see Sam looking in the rearview mirror at him. There was a small, sweet smile on his brother's face and Dean knew he was going to get teased for this later since Castiel could have easily fallen asleep against the car window. They drove on in silence and Dean had hoped that Castiel had fallen asleep, but a tap of fingers brought him to the realization that Castiel was still waiting for him to talk. They passed the river and Dean noticed a roller coaster on the horizon.

"Sam and I went there once." Dean started. "Our father was hunting and he left Sammy and me in a small motel. Well, there were advertisements for Six Flags everywhere and we just went. Snuck in through the employee's entrance and wandered around for a little while. Once we got hungry I bought us snow cones; I got grape and Sammy got cherry and I think they were the best things we've ever had. Our favorite roller coaster was Batman and we went on it seven times. Sam ended up throwing up the cherry snow cone so we stopped." Sam snorted, remembering the memory from many years ago. "It had to be one of the best day I've ever spent with him. Of course when we got back our father was furious that we had left the room but we couldn't stay there for days upon days. It was worth it, wouldn't you say so?"

"Mhm." Sam nodded in agreement.

Continuing with his Massachusetts tangent, Dean spoke again. "In Salem, Sammy and I dealt with these women who had sold their souls to a witch, worshipping her and everything for lower mortgages and such. Well, whenever they went off the deep end the witch would kill them. Ends up that is was the same witch Ruby sold her soul to. I guess that's the only good thing the bitch ever did for us. She saved us there. But afterwards Sammy just wanted to go to his historical place called Old Sturbridge Village. I wanted to sit it out since it seemed nerdy and just not my thing. It ended up being really cool, it was all early 1800 houses that were furnished and people who dressed like they did back then and acted like them and everything. I learned a lot. Though my favorite places were the tinsmith and blacksmith. Sammy indulged me and let me watch them for quite a long time as they produced items the old fashioned way. I kept asking them random questions. Sammy's favorite place was the old church they had there and we got to see part of a sermon.

"Boston's pretty cool as well. It has a ton of history there which interests Sammy but to me, I'm more interested in the booze and women. Sam Adams is produced there and I admit, it's not the worst thing. Could be stronger, like all alcohol, but I wouldn't turn it down if offered. You go past Boston and you get to Cape Cod. It's full of rich, snobby people but the beaches are gorgeous. Sam and I once went to one. Our dad took us. Surprising, really, but I feel like he thought it might be a good time to make an effort to have his family together for the long haul. We all forgot sunscreen and our skin got badly burned. It hurt and we were laying in the motel the next day moaning and groaning about the pain. It sucks to say that compared to the pain I've experience a sunburn is nothing."

Dean felt a small twitch against him and he glanced down to see Castiel's eyes closed and his breathing steady and regular. A small sigh leaves Dean's body and he whispers to Sam. "He's asleep." Sam just nods in response and turns on the radio, lowering the volume until it is barely audible. Boston's Peace of Mind is playing and Dean smirks. "How fitting." After that they drive in silence.

* * *

Sam convinced Dean to fill the prescription for Castiel's pain medication and they stop at a Wal-mart and order it. Castiel wandered around the large store picking up random items. Dean followed him around and made sure to put them back where they belonged when Castiel would discard one item for another. Dean told the angel he could get one thing and Castiel contemplated while Sam waited by the pharmacy. Castiel wandered around the clothing section, finding one of the warmest coats and hugging it to his body as he wandered around the other aisles. He stops in front of a bunch of potted plants and watched them quietly.

"Are they talking to you?" Dean joked.

Castiel shook his head dejectedly. "Not in this limited form. Although plants are not as interesting as humans. They focus mainly on their necessities, never straying. But in a way, plants seem simpler. They just need water, sun, and space and that is all they direct their thoughts on." Castiel handed the coat he had picked out to Dean and reached for a vase that held a small bamboo tree in it. "I want this."

"That one doesn't bloom, Cas, are you sure you don't want the coat?"

Castiel looked down at the plant in his hand. "It doesn't have to bloom. Even though it may not be colorful with flowers on it, there is still something inside it and it deserves to live and be taken care of." Dean furrowed his brows and shook his head, letting out a small huff of laughter. "You said I could have one thing. This is what I want. More than I want to combat the cold."

Dean just shrugged and took the plant from him and headed towards the registers. Sam come over and met them, the pill bottle in a small bag, rattling around whenever he moved. And Dean, being the nice guy that he is, bought Castiel both the plant and the coat.

* * *

Later that day they stop at a diner and Dean shakes Castiel awake. Dean could tell the pain medication was wearing off more and more as the day progress, but what he didn't expect was the hiss of pain that elicited from the angel when Dean touched his skin. Sam heard the noise and turned to look over the back of the seat and saw the angel's face, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, glancing from the angel to Dean.

Castiel decided to answer the question as he opened his eyes, sleep chased away by the bought of pain. "I hurt."

"Where?" Dean asked, making sure to keep his hands of Castiel's body.

"Everywhere." That response did not help the brothers but Sam reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed the pain pills. He read the directions and glanced over at Dean before he opened the bottle and shook one out.

"Here." Sam muttered, dropping the pill into Castiel's outstretched hand and placing a water on the seat next to him. Castiel seemed grateful for the pill and Dean saw a flash of desire for it and enjoyment before he had to turn away, still feeling fear knotting in his chest.

Once Castiel had taken the pill Dean turned back to him and asked, "You still want to go into the diner and get food?" The angel paused before he nodded and the brothers got out of the car. Dean helped Castiel get out, noticing his heavy, ragged breath and the painful way he was walking. Dean offered Castiel his support and the angel gratefully took it, leaning almost all his weight on Dean. Reaching forward, Dean wrapped the edges of the thick green coat around Castiel's front to stave off the chill of the air.

Still, the angel hid his pain well, but Dean could see it in his blue eyes and the stiffness in his body, his mind fighting against the pain. Knowing his input wouldn't be welcomed, Dean kept silent as they headed towards the diner, blocking the thoughts that swirled around his mind.

* * *

That night they got a motel and Dean slept on the small couch in front of the television. It was a fitful sleep and every time he woke he would look over the back of the couch to check on Castiel. It was silent from the angels side of the room, but Dean could swear he could see the glint of Castiel's eyes from the streetlamp outside whenever he looked.

The next day they crossed into South Dakota and by nightfall they had reached Bobby's house. The tension and stress that had been radiating off the brothers finally dissipated when they saw the half illuminated sign of 'Singer's Auto' and the rows of cars sitting in the yard.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PG-13.  
**Warnings:** Gory stuff (I need sleep... I can't remember the correct terms)**  
**

**A/N: **Holla, thanks for bearing with me! I know I got this chapter out a whole week late. Yes, I'm horrible I know that. Though I'm sure no one missed me, haha. Anyways, as I explained on my other two stories... or well, one... since I just started another one and am so excited about it. I got stranded in Atlanta since my wallet was stolen and apparently... you can't board a plane without I.D. so my father came up with a plan that I was going to motorcycle back home... yeah, that didn't work out. I'm back now, but I just got a testing date for my big Nursing test... so we shall see how that intercedes with posting.

Enjoy reading! Thank you very much.

Chapter Nine

"Good to see you, boys." Bobby's gruff voice growled when he clapped Dean on the shoulder as the trio entered the run down building that they fondly remembered as home. "Thought you were never gonna make it, instead you show up half past the decent hour to arrive."

He may have been gruff and brash with the Winchesters, but they all knew it was a way to cover up how close he was to the boys and how he felt as if they were his own children. When Sam was younger he used to never let it go that they knew Bobby had a heart beneath his sarcasm and mean exterior. They all had fond memories of when Bobby would try to make them have a semi normal life. Throwing a baseball around, eating ice cream and swimming at the lake, making sure they had a hot meal each night that was home cooked. Of course, the aftermath with their father was never pleasant, Sam and Dean would hide in the library while their father would yell at Bobby that he wasn't helping them stay safe, instead he was giving them the illusion that being oblivious and attempting normal things would be beneficial to them. After a particularly loud fight that almost ended in fists, John winchester seethed, "you're not their father, Bobby, and if you're going to keep treating them like this then I don't ever want to see your Goddam face anymore." After Bobby weilded a shotgun and threatened to blow the Winchesters head off, John collected his sons and left the property forever.

"Oh, Bobby, stop, you know you're happy to see us." Dean joked, walking past the older man and heading to the fridge as Sam walked in through the door and smiled a greeting at Bobby.

Bobby glanced out in the dark, seeing the figure of Castiel, bundled in his coat, standing hesitantly at the edge of the porch steps, a foot resting on the first step, rocking back and forth, causing creaks to issue from the worn wood. "By all means, help yourself, idjit." Bobby called into the house, hearing the fridge door close and the soft click of a bottle cap coming off a beer.

Dean wandered back to the entrance noticing their party was a person short and saw Castiel entranced by the noise the wood was making. "He's still doped up." Dean murmured to the older man, "come on, Castiel, let's get you all cleaned up." The bandages the angel was wearing needed to be changed badly. When Dean had made Castiel remove his shirt for bed last night he noticed how blood was slowly spreading along the white linnen, but since they had none on them they knew they needed to wait until they could get to Bobby's before they tended to his wounds.

Blue eyes looked up to meet green, the soft light from the porch throwing shadows on the angel's face, sharpening the contours of his hollowed cheeks. After a second Castiel nodded, hugging the bamboo plant tighter to his chest, and walked the few steps to the door, hesitating when he saw Bobby leaning against the doorframe. There was enough room for Castiel to make it through, but he seemed unwilling to gravitate so close to someone unless it was necessary.

"Well, get in here, boy." Bobby said in a joking tone, his eyes watching the angel carefully.

Dean reached over and grabbed Bobby's arm, pulling him back a few steps so his presence wasn't looming in the doorway, allowing Castiel to enter in a more comfortable manor. The angel took advantage of the space and passed into the house, glancing around curiously as if it was his first time seeing the building. Dean watched as Booby's eyes followed the angel, growing wide at the bruises that tinted the pale skin. But Castiel did not notice the change in Bobby, instead, he headed towards the study, running his hands along the walls, his fingers tracing the gouges in the wall that were from the time the owner had spent in the wheelchair. He then proceeded to walk to the bookcase and tilt his head as his eyes scanned over the titles. The two men were content with the fact that the most damages a drugged up angel could do in that room was rip the pages out of the books so they moved into the kitchen, meeting Sam who had just come from washing his face in the bathroom on the first floor.

Bobby whistled, shaking his head as he opened the fridge and grabbed two beers, handing one to Sam. "And I thought you were kidding about him."

Sam twisted off the cap and took a swig, tossing the metal cap towards the trash can. "Nah, Bobby, it's definitely worse than we expected. The sigil on his chest has to heal at a human rate and only once it's gone can he return to his full power." Dean stood there, shuffling his feet against the worn tile, rotating the bottle in his hand.

"Bobby?" Castiel's deep voice rumbled from the doorway and the three men looked over, glancing at the book and paper he had in his hand. "I do not want to critique your hard work, but in this translation of Latin script, you used the nominative case instead of the ablative, changing the whole meaning of the sentence." Castiel moved forward, placing the papers and books on the table so he wouldn't have to get too close to the man he was addressing.

Silence surrounded them and everyone noticed except Castiel, whose eyes had moved to his splayed fingers, watching the shadow they created on the floor. Bobby glanced at Dean and shrugged, moving forward to see the word that Castiel had underlined. The angel took a step back as if to not invade Bobby's personal space. The Winchesters noticed the movement since Castiel never seemed to have a problem invading personal spaces before. "You're right, Cas, good job catching that one." Bobby took a pencil out of his pocket and corrected the sentence and the following one after that. His voice was softer, as if trying not to scare off a wounded animal. "Here." Bobby added, holding up the items the angel had brought into the room.

Castiel flinched at the raising of Bobby's hand and the human froze, glancing over at the brothers lost. "No. Just, place them on the table." Castiel commanded, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"No, Cas, that's not how it's gonna work." Dean stepped in, leaning down and trying to gain Castiel's gaze. "You need to take the book and papers from Bobby."

"Dean..." Sam murmured, reaching out a hand and placing it on his brother's shoulder in a small warning. Dean understood, he was pushing Castiel, but he thought this was ridiculous that Castiel wasn't talking something from Bobby. Bobby, who was Castiel's friend and supporter, a fellow hunter and a father figure to Dean.

Bobby lowered his hands, still holding the items. "It's alright, boy. Castiel doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to. He's still fragile."

Castiel's blue eyes snapped up to Bobby's face,pulling his lips back and baring his teeth. "I am not fragile. I am not weak. I am not useless." Even though Castiel had none of his grace, his anger caused him to have a powerful aura, his presence seeming larger than it was.

The three men in the room were at a loss of what to do. Sam just stared at the angel while Bobby put his hands up in a mock peace gesture, taking another slow, careful step backwards. Dean, on the other hand, glanced between Castiel and Bobby, attempting to figure out the difference in attitude the angel had between him and Sam and Bobby. "Is it the beard, Cas?" Dean asked gently, remembering the demon in the warehouse, the black, full beard coving most of his face. At the lack of reply Dean assumed he had guessed right. "Do you want to touch Bobby's beard?"

"No!" Bobby exclaimed, crossing his arms. "My face is not getting fondled."

"Bobby, you and Crowley kiss, this is nothing compared to that. Just, let him do this so we can get back to what we were doing." Dean sighed, grabbing Castiel's wrist and pulling him towards the older hunter. "Come on, Cas, Bobby's a friend, got that?"

Castiel nodded slowly, as if processing the information slowly. He reached out slowly and Bobby froze, a look of horror passing his face at his beard being caressed by a man. Dean watched as Castiel's long fingers tangled themselves in the stiff hairs, pulling on them slightly before his fingers slid out of them. When the angel's fingers left the hunter's face, Bobby attempted to compose his face back to normal.

It was as if that small action had changed Castiel's attitude. He reached out and took the book and papers from Bobby and turned, slowly zig-zagging towards the door as he hummed a tune under his breath, leaving the humans to continue their talk.

"He always like that?" Bobby breathed out, running his fingers through his beard and fixing where Castiel had messed up.

Dean shrugged, turning away from the door Castiel had disappeared through and took a swing of his drink. "It's the medicine. I tried not to give it to him, but he ended up being in so much pain I gave in."

"Idjit, obviously he needs the medicine if he was prescribed it. Why'd you hold out on him?" Bobby growled, placing his beer on the counter and glancing into the hallway, attempting to gauge where the angel had gone.

The three of them heard movement in the study and the soft sinking of the couch. "I just figured he's be fine. I didn't want him to act like this anymore. Not like how he acted in 2014." Dean glanced over at Sam who was staring out the window of the kitchen, seeming to be very interested in the rusted Monte Carlo that was parked close to the house. "He'll be fine soon, back to normal."

"I hope so." Sam finally spoke up, glancing at Dean. "I still think it was wrong to make him leave the hospital so early. The doctor feared that he was mentally unstable. You can't deny it Dean, you saw how he acted towards Bobby."

Dean stared back at his brother, glancing over at Bobby to see that he was expectantly waiting for an answer as well. "Cas wanted to leave! Plus, he's an angel, he'll be fine once he's all healed. One day at a time, Sammy."

A small snort escaped Sam's lips. "Yeah, whatever Dean." Sam rubbed a hand across his forehead in an agitated manor, closing his eyes as he muttered. "This couldn't have come at a worse time."

"Damn right about that," Bobby replied, pulling a folder off the counter and tossing it on the folder. "Eve's being a little mother bitch like she usually is." Dean opened the folder, glancing down at the first paper while Sam read over his shoulder. "So what's the plan?"

The brothers glanced at each other before Dean shrugged with one shoulder. "We'd figure we'd hole out in here for a little while, at least until Cas can heal a little bit. It's been kinda hard to talk about it since we don't want him around when we discuss such things. But first we gotta change his bandages, do you have a first aid kit, Bobby?"

Bobby shook his head, a sigh heaving his chest before he glanced down the hallway. "You guys read up on that and decide what to do. I'll take care of Cas."

With that statement, Bobby left the room, his footsteps causing the floorboards to creak as he headed towards the study. Dean glanced back at the papers, reading through them as he flipped to the next page, taking in months of Bobby's meticulous research and calculations. The rise of a new breed of monsters, the slaying of multiple humans by an uprising herd, the tracking of destructions that Eve seemed to leave behind her with glee. If it wasn't something it was another thing. First the apocalypse, then Eve with the portal to Purgatory, a foreign notion to the brothers before but now an all too real concept. But Dean knew he could relax, at lease he had Castiel back and even if he was broken and hurting, they could always come out of this better, Dean had promised Castiel that much.

Sam's arm reached past him, his finger running along one of Bobby's messy notes, taking in what it said about a new breed of monsters, the ability to create them into willing mind servants with just a sharing of blood. It was creative, but Dean shivered at sharing blood with a monster. When Sam had come back from hell without a soul he had been turned into a vampire, and the lust and need for blood was greater than he had ever had, greater than the lust for sex, the need for food or sleep. But what human would willingly share their blood with someone else and Dean could only assume that the creature had to force the human into the bond.

Force seemed to control everyone these days. It was used as leverage. The older brother couldn't help but shudder at the thought of Castiel, at how he was forced into things he didn't want to do. Whether it be in the past six months or when he served in heaven, doubtful of the orders that came from his supervisors. Dean tried not to think about what he had forced the angel to do, preferring to blame other people instead of himself this time.

Trying to pull his mind away from an image from one of the shared memories with Castiel, Dean cleared his throat. "So... what do we do?"

Sam glanced up from the map he was looking at and shrugged. "We can exactly leave him while he's recuperating. We can stay here for a while. Help Bobby out, maybe find a lead on Eve or something."

Dean closed his eyes and laid his hand across his face, pressing his thumb into one eyelid and his index finger against the other, rubbing vigorously. "Yeah..." He replied, barely paying attention to what his brother was saying. "Sounds good."

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked, glancing over to see the agitated look on his brother's face, seeing alight sheen of sweat forming across Dean's brow.

"Mm." Dean groaned, letting his hand fall and hit the table with a dull thud. "I just keep thinking about the memories Cas and I shared... they're horrible." Even though he opened his eyes and glanced down at his hands to see they were clean, the image of long, slender fingers broken and covered with blood flashed across his vision. It felt so real, even the blood leaking out of the cut on his thigh was real, covering his skin in a tacky substance, pain rippling through his body in small, distinct waves. "I gotta go do something or I'm going to go crazy."

He could feel Sam's gaze on him as he left the kitchen and walked down the hallway. The study room was vacated, the only thing that showed there had been a presence in there recently was the open book. Stepping forward, Dean caught the foreign language written on the thin pages. A small chuckle left Dean. '_Trust Cas to choose a book written in ancient Greek to read for fun._' Dean turned and left the room, hearing voice farther down the hall he followed them, coming to what once would have been the dining room, the door to the bathroom was open and the light was spilling out of it and casting a glow on the faded carpet.

Shifting slightly, Dean could see Castiel standing in the center of the bathroom with just jeans on, the multiple shirts and layers he was wearing were deposited on the floor. His bright blue eyes were carefully watching Bobby rubbing some antiseptic cream onto the sigil on his chest. Then after the cream was rubbed in carefully, the hunter gently wrapped a bandage around the angel's chest, making sure it was loose enough not to cause irritation, but tight enough so it would not shift. A small whimper escaped Castiel's lips as Bobby accidentally pressed on a bruised rib.

"Shit, you're just hurt all over, aren't you?" Bobby growled, taping the edge off and moving onto the stab wounds, one on the angel's shoulder and another just below his ribs. "They did a good number on you."

The stitches were checked and the cream was rubbed in carefully since Dean knew Bobby always feared infections which could kill quickly and effectively. After those were bandaged, he sat Castiel down onto pf the toilet seat, tending to the multiple whip marks that lashed through the pale skin on his back. No bandages were placed on it, but the cream was rubbed in gently and Castiel almost made it though the whole ordeal without making a noise of pain. Whenever a flash of agony went across his face, Castiel's hand reached out to run his fingers over the leaves of the bamboo plant resting on the sink counter.

"You might want to keep your shirt off until the cream dries. Do you have any clothes?" Bobby asked, taking the angels face in his hands and glancing at the cuts and bruises, deciding which ones were serious enough for his treatment.

Castiel shook his head and let Bobby pull him up to a standing position. "Just... just my coat, I think. These, aren't my clothes."

"No shit, you're practically swimming in them. I'll cook you up a good, hot meal tomorrow, but after this I think you should go to bed, you look exhausted." Bobby murmured in a comforting tone. "Take your pants off."

The angel obeyed, pushing at the waistband so they slid off his hips and bunched in a pile on the floor, standing only in the boxers Dean had lent him the day before. Bobby hissed when he say the huge bruise on Castiel's knee which was swollen to twice it's normal size. Bobby pressed two fingers against it lightly. Castiel whimpered in pain. "Please don't." Bobby nodded and then tended to an odd cut on Castiel's thigh, unable to place the weapon that caused the mark. "How did you learn how to do this?" Dean could tell Castiel only asked that question in order to have a distraction from the pain.

"Believe it or not, stitching up those two oaf's in the kitchen.. and myself as well." Bobby grabbed a needle and some thread, noticing the wound had opened, and began to stitch it. Castiel's face paled as the needle passed through his skin and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back as a grunt passed between his pink lips. Dean breathed a sigh of relief when Bobby finished and began to bandage the wound which was now leaking a small amount of blood. "Anywhere else?"

"Yes. I have another bandage that needs to be changed on my hip as well as a few other injuries that need to be looked at, I apologize." Castiel replied, rubbing his hand over the cast. He seemed more lucid than he had previously and Dean had to wonder whether it was the pain that was causing his mind to be less obscure.

"Don't you dare apologize, Cas." Bobby's tone was lower, and the gruffness of it seemed to echo how seriously he took this situation. Bobby stood, his knee's giving a resounding pop as he stood. "Alright, let's deal with that hip. Off." Bobby's gruff voice echoes around the bathroom as he motioned to the only clothing that Castiel was still wearing.

It was then that Dean decided to excuse himself from their presence even though they had not realized that he had been observing what was going on. Dean knew Bobby was only dealing with the large lacerations on Castiel's skin. It was too late for anything more. Tomorrow would hold a more detailed search of the actual damage done to him. Dean shivered, hoping that Bobby would take the lead on that. Apparently, Bobby had feared becoming a father because he was positive he was going to follow in his father's footsteps, but behind that tough exterior was a man that really cared for them and Dean knew that Bobby hated seeing Castiel like that as much as he did. This whole situation made him angry, but that was his life, nothing would ever be easy for them and he would never be happy.

Exiting the building, Dean went over to the Impala and opened the back door. Castiel had finally allowed Dean to drive on the condition that he could gather all the duffel bags in the back of the car with them and build a small fort around his body, claiming that it would keep him warm. That was an oddity about the angel, his skin temperature always seemed to be freezing, much lower than any normal human. He grabbed the bags and slung them over his shoulder, closing the door of the car and returning to the house. Sam was in the study, glancing over some papers that Bobby had left on the desk. Dean pitched the bag to his younger brother, smirking when Sam looked up and just barely reacted in time to catch the bag. The older brother dropped his bag on the sofa and unzipped it, riffling thought the clothes before he came up with a clean pair of sweatpants, glancing over at Sam who sighed and looking in his, pulling out a large, worn-out, brown t-shirt. The needed to go shopping for Castiel as soon as possible.

Taking the clothes, Dean walked back to the dining room, seeing Castiel back in his boxers as Bobby was cleaning up the small area he had done his work in. "Here Cas, we brought you some clothes to sleep in."

The angel looked up and took the clothes out of Dean's hands and hugged them to his chest, his eyes turning to watch Bobby carefully.

The older man exited the bathroom, and glanced over at Dean. "You should go shopping with him. Soon."

"We will, Bobby, thanks." Dean said, watching the older man leave to throw out the old bandages. He looked up to see Castiel hopping in the bathroom, trying to kick one foot through the hole. It took a few tries before he was successful and then Castiel pulled them up, grimacing as they sagged low on his hips, but he turned, pulling the shirt over his head and let it settle, hanging loosely over his small frame. "Look's good. Let's get you to your room so you can sleep."

They walked out of the bathroom, Castiel holding the dirty clothes from that day in one hand and hugging the plant to his chest with the other.

Bobby and Sam, were talking quietly when the two entered the room and silence descended on them as they saw Castiel, eyes bright and alert. "So, Bobby, I was thinking of putting Cas in the guest bedroom upstairs, is that okay?" Dean made sure to ask since he had rarely gone upstairs. Since Karen, Bobby's wife, had died he moved almost everything downstairs so he had little reason to go upstairs and revisit old memories.

The older man shrugged and brought a small silver flask to his lips, "sounds good to me. You two boys should probably sleep up there as well."

"Nah, you know me, Bobby, I love that old sofa, wouldn't want to sleep anywhere else." Dean replied, shaking his head before he glanced at Sam.

"I guess I'll take the other guest room then." Sam muttered, feeling slightly guilty, as if he was intruding on Bobby's private life.

Dean nodded at them and gently touched Castiel's elbow prodding him in the direction of the stairs, leading him up then and down the hallway, pushing open the second door on the right. The angel followed Dean in, glancing at the rather bare room, holding only a queen sized bed, wardrobe, and a bed stand. The angel moved to place his plant down on the bed stand, turning it slightly so the moonlight streaming in through the windows hit the leaves, causing them to be a shimmering silver color.

While Castiel took care of that, Dean pulled back the blankets on the bed, adjusting them so they would be comfortable on top of Castiel. "Get in." Dean smiled at the other person in the room who took a hesitant step towards the bed, an unreadable emotion on his face. "What's wrong?"

Castiel looked away from the bed and out the window, the light from the moon reflecting in his eyes. "I do not wish to sleep."

Dean shook his head, grabbing Castiel's elbow and leading him to the bed, sitting him down on the edge. "You gotta sleep, you look exhausted, it'll do you good." The angel looked up at him and slowly turned on the bed, sliding his legs under the blankets and resting his head on the pillow. "Will you be warm enough?"

It took a few seconds for the reply to come. "No... I do not think I will be warm enough." The human nodded and left the room, traveling a few feet down the hallway and grabbing two more blankets out of the linen closet. Returning to the room, he opened the blankets and fluffed them out of the bed so they rested over Castiel.

"There." Dean murmured, leaning down and running a hand loosely through Castiel's hair. "Sleep well. Alright?"

"I shall endeavor to try my best." Castiel replied and Dean felt a flash of protection flow through him. There must be some reason why Castiel had no desire to fall asleep and he could only assume that nightmares must haunt his sleeping moments.

He ran his hand through the black hair again, trying to put a small smile on his lips. "Good, good." Dean replied. "Goodnight, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean." Castiel replied, shifting on his side more and watching Dean as he pulled away and walked to the wall, turning the light off before he closed the door.

As the door clocked closed behind him, Dean let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. He went back to the closet, pulling out some blankets for himself, knowing he would need it when the temperature would drop in the night. Hunting made little money and Bobby couldn't afford to keep the heat running all the time, only on the nights when it would be unbearable cold. The floorboards creaked underneath his feet as he walked down the hallway and to the first floor, getting ready to talk with Bobby and Sam, knock back a few beers and then go to sleep when he could handle anything anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PGish.  
**Warnings:** Language and Drug Use**  
**

**A/N: **Gosh, I seem to be really bad at proofreading on time. Though honestly, I kinda have to be in a slightly melancholy mood to do that. I don't know why. Anyways, crappy chapter ahead. I apologize. =[

Enjoy reading! Thank you very much.

Chapter Ten

Day's passed by and the four men who lived in the house attempted to adjust the best that they could in the circumstances. The humans treated Castiel like a ticking time bomb and it did not go unnoticed by the angel who seemed to change each day. No one knew whether it would be a good day for him or not, but they all tried to work through it together.

Dean woke up the next morning, a slight pounding in his head as he remembered the twelve pack that Bobby, Sam and him had gone through the night before, talking about random things, swapping stories, and trying to avoid the topic of Castiel. After the three men were up and tromping around, Dean took a shower, enjoying the pressure of Bobby's water and letting the heat run over his wearied and tired body. Once he dressed Sam motioned that Dean should wake Castiel up so they could go to the local goodwill store in Sioux Falls. Approaching Castiel's door, Dean listened intently, but no noise was coming from the room. Curiosity caused Dean to push the door open, seeing the angel wrapped in the comforter, a hand pressed gingerly to his side as he leaned out the window, intently watching the apple tree that had sprouted in between two junk cars.

"Hey, Cas." Two lucid blue eyes greeted him as Castiel turned around, attempting to rid the flash of pain that marred his expressions. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"

There was a slight pause as Castiel nodded, replying slowly as if calculating his words. "It was... adequate." It lead Dean to believe that the angel hadn't actually fallen asleep last night, that he was running on the few hours he had gotten in the Impala, surrounded by the duffel bags, the previous day. "It smells different here and it's rather quiet."

Biting his lip, Dean shrugged, there wasn't anything he could do at the moment, but it surprised him that Sam and him had such a large impact on the angel. There was no noise in the house other than the usual creeks that come with age. Although, usually Dean and Sam were immersed in noise from the motels other clients or the cars on the near highway. Dean even found that he occasionally had trouble sleeping when he didn't hear the constant breath of Sammy only a few feet away, the lingering smell of his brother's shampoo drifting over to him.

"Well, Bobby's cooking breakfast if you want some. We're going out shopping today. So get yourself ready for that."

Dean turned to walk out the door and rejoin the other two men at the table when a soft, "Dean.." from Castiel caused him to stop in his tracks. Turning he glanced back as Castiel moved his hand from the his side, allowing him to see the blood that was dripping off the angel's fingertips. "I ruined Sam's shirt."

The voice the angel said it in sounded bittersweet and Dean took a step forward, taking Castiel's wrists and pulling him gently behind him. Once they made it to the bathroom, Dean closed the door behind them and unwrapped the blanket from around Castiel's shoulder, gently pulling Sam's shirt off Castiel's thin frame. He was silent as his hands slid down Castiel's bruised and torn skin, gently prodding at the knife wound just below the ribs.

"What'd you do? Some of the stitches broke." Dean murmured as he grabbed the first aid kit out from the cupboard underneath the sink. Then he pulled out the needle and thread and began to repair what he could, watching as the needle slid cleanly though the skin brought together both sides of the wound. He knelt in front of Castiel, placing on hand on the angel's waist for balance.

"Please, Dean, it hurts." Castiel whimpered and Dean glanced up to see the angel's eyes closed and a light sheen of sweat gathering over his body, glistening on his chest. Dean hadn't woken Castiel up in the middle of the night to take his painkillers because he thought the angel would make it though without any pain. Apparently, it had been the wrong decision.

Once Dean was finished he cut the thread and tied a knot and rubbed cold antiseptic cream over the wound, he felt Castiel's muscles ripple in a small shiver at the cold feeling. Then Dean replaced the sterile pad since the previous one had been soaked in blood. When Dean was taping it on, he decided to take care of the rest of the wounds, they would all need to be taken care of at regular intervals in order to prevent infection. Though at the look of the depth and severity of some of the wounds, a small infection might be unavoidable. But as long as they didn't need to travel to the hospital then they all would classify it as a win.

They made fast work of Castiel's injuries, Dean working as fast as he could while Castiel stood still, eyes closed and mouth pursed into a thin line of pain. After that was done, Dean helped Castiel into his clothes, cringing when the angel hissed as the jeans were pulled over his buttocks. Within an hour they were both making their way downstairs, Castiel bundled in his winter coat and his plant hugged to his chest.

Once they were settled down at the table Dean dolled out Castiel's correct amount of pills for the day and the three humans began to chat amicably about their plans in order to relieve any pressure to talk from Castiel.

Bobby placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of their quiet friend. "Eat up." Bobby gruffly said, turning back to the stove where the flipped a pancake.

Castiel glanced down at the mush, dipping his spoon in and bringing it up. He surveyed the food before he tilted the silverware and watched as the oatmeal slid off his spoon and plopped back into the bowl. With narrowed eyes, Castiel repeated the movement, only to frown in slight disappointment as the mush fell back into the bowl with the same devastating noise. Sam, Dean, and Bobby watched the angel dip his spoon in the bowl with fascination before he glanced over to Dean's plate, seeing the pancakes, bacon, and eggs that were piled on. Sam and Bobby turned away when they saw Castiel eyeing the older Winchester's food.

When Castiel's eyes met Deans he shook his head. "Your stomach's probably fragile and we don't want to upset it." Castiel glanced down at the table, his eyes sliding over his oatmeal, a small sigh escaping his lips as he tilted his head at it. "Fuck." Dean swore when it seemed Castiel was perfectly happy having a staring match with an inanimate object and slid his plate of food over, pushing the oatmeal out of the way.

A small smile broke out on Castiel's face, it was so out of place that it caused Dean to glance back again just to make sure he actually saw it. "Thank you." Castiel whispered as he picked up a fork and began to eat the food that had been placed in front of him. All the while, Dean attempted to make the oatmeal look appetizing in any way possible.

"Maybe if you put blueberries in it." Sam suggested from his seat on the other side of the table, pouring over the newspaper.

Dean snorted and pushed the oatmeal away from him. He knew Bobby would make him another plate of food while complaining that he wasn't their maid. "Blueberries are for freaks like you, Sammy."

Sam chuckled, returning to the article he was reading. Dean was just happy that his brother had given up so easily, usually he would try to convince him that it was actually fruit in the pies he was so fond of.

Breakfast passed in retaliative ease, though it was so late in the morning it could almost be called an early lunch. Castiel was taking tentative bites of the pancakes and seemed almost done when he froze, blue eyes wide in fear and surprise.

"Cas?" Sam asked, glancing over at him.

Before anyone could ask what was wrong the angel pushed himself off the chair and disappeared around the corner of the kitchen. Dean followed soon after, abandoning his bacon only to hear the retching noise of Castial vomiting into the toilet. Entering the bathroom, Dean sat on the edge of the shower, rubbing soothing circles against the angel's back, feeling the thin material of the shirt against his palm.

"See, what did I tell you?" Dean murmured in a soothing voice as he felt Castiel's back press against him as his body violently heaved, muscles moving underneath the skin as his body reacted. The angel was shaking by the time his body had expelled the food and Dean had no doubt that the medicine had gone with it. After Dean had cleaned Castiel up, he suggested that they make their way to the store so Castiel could have some new clothes to wear.

They tried not to make a big deal of Castiel throwing up as Dean drove them to the small center of town, parking in front of the building they needed. It took some time, but Castiel had finally found some clothes that he would be willing to wear. At first it was Sam wandering through the racks with him, trying to figure out what he wanted and what he was looking for. The clothes he choose were all well worn, and he adamantly shown his displeasure at new clothes, claiming they were stiff and uncomfortable, rubbing against his skin too roughly. So instead they left the store with three pairs of very worn jeans, five soft t-shirts, a new pair of shoes, and two sweatshirts. The two brother's couldn't care what Castiel bought, as long as he was comfortable and it also meant that they wouldn't have to do laundry so soon.

The rest of the day passed by simple enough. Castiel received his next dosage of medicine and then sat in front of the television for a few hours, staring at the moving picture with a blank face. Bobby eventually changed his bandages and took note of all his injuries down to the last detail, comparing it to the folder the doctor had given them a few days previous. Dean helped Castiel shower before hand, standing on the other side of the curtain and using directions. Then the three humans helped around the house, answering calls and joining Bobby in the research part of hunting. Once or twice Castiel wandered in while they were working in the library, attempting to track down anything about Eve, and offered one of two pieces of information, helping them along greatly.

Later on that night, after Dean had unsuccessfully tried to get Castiel to eat some soup and jello, Castiel fell asleep on the couch, a book of the Buddhist religion open in his lap. Dean had barely touched Castiel's shoulder to wake him when an elbow collided with the side of his face as the angel jerked awake, fear prevalent in his face. Dean sprawled backwards, hand holding the side of his face in pain.

"Shit." Dean swore, rubbing the quickly bruising area and glanced up to see Castiel huddled in the corner of the couch at the action and outburst. Seeing his friends distress, Dean sat up, shifting onto his knee's as he smiled at Castiel, "Hey, come on, it's not that bad."

Castiel seemed to respond in kind, letting out a small nod as he cleared his throat. "I think I would like to retire for the night."

"Sounds good, I was just gonna wake you and bring you to bed." Dean slowly stood so he wouldn't startle Castiel. It would be one thing if the angel could disappear and return when he felt better, but since Castiel was currently a human, he was forced to endure everything.

Dean gave Castiel his last dose of medicine for the day and they made their way upstairs where Dean taught Castiel how to brush his teeth and helped him change into the pajamas that they had bought that morning. Dean watered the bamboo plant and made sure to turn it so when the moon fully rose, the light would be splayed in the leaves.

That night, Dean left Castiel's room a little worse for the wear, but for once with a hope for the future.

* * *

Early in the morning, Dean was woken by the noise of someone throwing up in the upstairs bathroom. With a groan he shoved the covers off of himself, pulling down at the hems of his boxers and padding barefoot up the stairs. The wood creaked beneath his feet and he was sure that he would wake everyone up in the house. But it seemed that no one heard or seemed to care.

Gently knocking on the door, Dean mumbled, "you okay?" He wasn't sure who was in there, and in his foggy state, he wasn't curious as to who would answer.

Instead, there was movement on the other side of the door and then silence for a few seconds. Dean leaned against the wall, letting his eyelids fall closed over his green eyes. At the sound of the door opening, Dean pushed himself off the wall and opened his eyes, coming face to face with a pale, shaken Castiel. But even though the angels body seemed to be hurting and frightened, the blue eyes stared at him with clarity.

"I am fine, I apologize for waking you." The deep voice, full of power and authority greeted him, and it caused Dean to realized he had missed that. He had missed the angel.

Dean shook his head,shifting from foot to foot. "No problem. What happened?"

Something flashed behind Castiel's eyes, something dark and treacherous, but then it was gone and Dean was left with the stoic faced angel. "I believe it is time for my medicine."

The comment surprised the human, and he took a step back as if to comply. It was time for Castiel to have more painkillers, but Dean had hoped the angel could wait and eat it with breakfast so he would have some food to offset the warning reactions. "Yeah... okay. You sure nothing's wrong?"

They both stood their in silence, green eyes warily watching blue ones. Then, Castiel glanced down at his hand, seeing his fingers digging into his palm. Slowly he extended his fingers and reached out, his hand hovering over Dean's bare shoulder. It seemed as if the angel was unsure as to what he should do next so Dean reached up and grasped his wrist, placing his hand on where Castiel's handprint used to be. At the contact of skin Castiel sighed, letting his hand drop from Dean's shoulder, his finger's trailing down the human's chest before they returned to his side, clenching them into a fist.

"No, everything... everything is fine." Castiel said again, seeming to relax slightly. Dean stared at the angel for a few seconds, curious as to whether he was awoken from nightmares but he knew that Castiel would most likely never reveal that to him.

Dean smiled, his skin tingling from where Castiel's cold fingers ran over it. "Alright, get back in bed and I'll bring you your medicine."

Castiel nodded, the socks on his feet making no noise as he walked back into his room while Dean went to the kitchen to retrieve the painkillers.

* * *

As the time approached noon, Castiel still had not come down from his bedroom. This time, Dean forced Sam to wake the angel up, using the bruise that covered the left side of his face and giving him a rather nice black eye as an argument. Bobby and Dean chatted about Garth's new case in West Virginia as they waited for the other two to arrive.

Except when Sam came down, he came without Castiel, causing fleeting panic among the older men before they split up and began to search the house and grounds. Dean slammed open the door to the basement and began to search in between the shelves, seeing multiple useful tools that he doubt Bobby remembered he had, but no Castiel. Eventually he made his way to the panic room, and a breath of relief went through him as he saw Castiel sitting with his legs crossed in the middle of the floor.

"Cas, fuck, you scared the hell outta us!" Dean swore, stepping into the room.

Castiel looked up, a small smile on his lips as he chuckled. It was eery sounding in the small metal room. "I apologize, Dean. That was not my intentions."

Dean walked closer to the angel, squatting down in front of him. Castiel seemed to lazily watch Dean's movement, but once Dean got close he realized the angel was having a hard time focusing on him. His pupils were bare pinpoints and after trying to look at Dean's face he gave up and stared at one of the sigils on the wall.

There was something in his hands and Dean reached out to take the bottle, his eyes widening when he saw it was the pill bottle. He must have accidentally left it in Castiel's room last night. "Did you take all of them?" Dean growled, worry lacing his voice.

"They were rather pleasant." Castiel replied, his head flopping onto his shoulder as he surveyed Dean with a smile.

Those eyes. That face. It took everything Dean had not to cringe back from the resemblance they had to the angel Dean had seen in 2014.

"Cas, no, no, no." Dean chided, moving forward and wrapping his arms around Castiel's body, hugging him to his chest and an action that was not reciprocated by the other man.

Then there were days like this, when all Dean wanted to do was give up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** And I will Let You Down  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** NC-17 or M overall, this chapter is PGish.  
**Warnings:** Language and Drug Use**  
**

**A/N: **Here is the next segment. I know the story hasn't really progressed much, but it will in the next chapter. I kinda deleted most of the ending of this story, I kinda felt like it needed something better, so if you want to see anything happen, tell me.

Enjoy reading! Thank you very much.

Chapter Eleven

Dean sat there and rocked the angel back and forth, his knees growing numb from the cement floor underneath him. Castiel's eyes were lifeless, but mirth seemed to linger around the edges of his mouth, his lips turned up in a small smile. Mirth at what, Dean hadn't a clue. The house was silent around them and he knew he had to do something, but right now, all he wanted to do was press the angel against his chest in hopes that everything would be alright.

"You idiot." Dean whispered, the words muffled by Castiel's hair which was tickling his face.

Castiel's hands moved and pressed against Dean's biceps in a feeble attempt to lean back. But the hunter had no desire to loosen his grasp so Castiel was forced to speak into his neck, his soft breath ghosting across Dean's skin, causing a tingling sensation as it warmed the flesh. "I am not an Idiot. I am an angel of the Lord, Dean."

A pain smile spread across Dean's lips as he listened for one of the other men in the house to come back inside. He didn't want to leave Castiel alone to get get help. "I know. You are feared and respected." The body in his arms froze at his words and Dean hesitated, glancing down at the messy hair covering Castiel's face, wondering if what he had said was bringing back unpleasant memories. "Why, Cas?" He asked, loosening his grip so he could pull Castiel's face from the hiding spot against his neck.

"You wouldn't understand." The deep voice rumbled as the glassy, blue eyes watched Dean's facial movements. Castiel's head was tilted to the side, and his lips were still smiling as if laughing at his own private joke. "The best I can describe it is that all these years of living everything has been dulled. I'm old, so old. I perceive things differently than you do, Dean. And now, I've been thrown into things I can't quite understand in hopes that I'll catch up to things that you've known your entire life. With this medicine in this amount of dosage, everything is numbed for me. It's faded. Everything I feel isn't all there anymore. It's restrained. The nerve receptors in my brain and body are not working at full capacity. Hindered by the medicine. I feel like I'm flying, or the closest thing I can get to it while having my wings pinned to my back. Bound by an invisible force holding them to the ground. In this sated state, I do not feel. I am just living." Closing his eyes, Castiel let out a little sigh, placing one of his hands over his heart, feeling the erratic beating. "It feels amazing, Dean. For once, I feel fine. I feel... nothing."

It was hard for Dean to keep his face impassive as he saw his best friend talk about himself that way. The desire to feel nothing. The desire to rid himself of anything that would remind him of the past six months. Ridden from his body while he felt like he was floating, flying on clouds. An escape from the emotions, pain, and human troubles that constantly afflicted him. To feel dead inside, emotionless, numb. So numb that nothing would ever hurt him again. He was coping with the newness the situation he was in brought about. Hating every second that he was forced to stay on the ground instead of taking his rightful place as a powerful being. For many the yearning to feel nothing was great, though few achieved such a state. Castiel achieved it by the improper use of medicine.

The opening of a front door and the slam of the screen door brought Dean away from thoughts, realizing that he had been staring into the depth's of Castiels unfocused eyes. Tearing his gaze away, Dean looked out of the panic room and down the hallway.

"Hey! Sam? Bobby?" Dean called out, loud enough for anyone on the first floor to hear him. Dean pulled Castiel back against him, feeling his legs protesting at the uncomfortable position they were in. He shivered slightly from the sweat that transferred onto the skin of his neck from Castiel's forehead. Loud steps came down the stairs of the basement and the hunter couldn't help but compare it to a stampede of antelope. Sam came around the corner and his brow furrowed when he saw the positions Castiel and Dean were in. The hunter cradling the angel in his arms. One kneeling on the floor while the other sat, his limbs not responding to the hug that Dean had him in. "He took the rest of the pills. Does Bobby have Ipecac? If not, then salt and water."

Sam nodded, stepping over the threshold and into the room. He crouched down next to his brother and ran his hand through Castiel's hair, gently prying the angel's head from the crevice of Dean's neck. The blue eyes focused on the younger man and Castiel almost seemed to grimace at the sight of Sam. "The boy with the demon blood."

"That's over now, Cas." Sam muttered, taken aback slightly by the terms their friend used to greet him.

Castiel nodded, tilting his head to the side, "It will never be over." Another soft chuckle come from Castiel, mirth showing faintly behind his eyes as the reverberation of his joyous noise echoed ominously around the metal room.

A sense of foreboding settled in the pit of Dean's stomach as Sam stood and began backing out of the room, glancing at Dean with worry prominent in his facial features. He watched as Sam strode down the hallway and thundered up the stairs again, moving around the house in order to find Bobby and the items he would need for Castiel's homemade detoxification.

"I never expected it to be so lonely as a human. So cold. You live, eat, sleep, procreate, die. There isn't much worth living for, is there? Some have art, other's find love, while several help strive to make the world a better place. But there are those few who have nothing. Go through life with out a purpose. It seems like everyone turns their back on one another." The angel sighed, raising a hand and running it through his hair, damp with sweat from the overdose.

Dean shook his head, shifting so the weight of his body was on his toes, giving a break to his sore knees. "Everyone has something worth fighting for. That's what drives us to live."

Moving his arms, Castiel leaned back, resting his shoulder blades against the rails of the bed. His left hand reached out to wrap around his left wrist, closing his eyes as he felt his pulse, the blood rushing through his veins by the beat of his heart. "I've always known that humans were fragile, but I've never understood. Not until now."

"I don't know, you'd be pretty surprised by what we can do even if we are 'fragile'." Dean replied. The noise from the floor above them had stopped and Dean wondered what could possibly be holding Sam up. Each second that went by meant more of the medicine was dissolving in Castiel's stomach and moving out into his body. There was no way he wanted them to go to the hospital, but if enough time lapsed without improvement, then they would just have to go.

The smile on Castiel's face grew wider as he glanced over at the door to the metal closet, the angel sigil now written in dried blood still residing there. "Oh, I know Dean. I was a fool and worried for you. Especially since I had rebelled for you. Protecting Michael's vessel. Granted, I was more worried for myself when you sent me back to heaven with all the angels who felt betrayed by my actions and commanded to kill me for deceiving them."

Dean's breath stuttered at Castiel's words, the revealing the truth behind what his action had caused the angel. Remembering the first boneshattering blow to the wall, Castiel's fists balled in the front of his jacket. Through his haze of pain Dean saw anger, but something lurking further bellow that, some where hidden in the angel's eyes. Deeper than the betrayal from Dean, that he would do something to careless that could jeopardize the whole future they had been working together for. Beneath that, Dean could see he was upset, returning to heaven and being chased after by his own brethren. Brethren that were commanded to kill him. But of course, Castiel couldn't dwell on himself for a little while, he had to make sure the hunter wouldn't get into anymore trouble. Those emotions fueled Castiel to land blows on Dean. And he knew he fully deserved it.

Two pairs of feet tromped down the stairs and Dean turned, watching as Sam and Bobby appeared around the corner, necessary items in their hands.

"Alright," Dean said and Castiel turned to glance down the hallway to see the other men coming towards them. "Let's get you up on that bed." Castiel placed his palms on the old mattress and hoisted himself up, sliding so that he was sitting on the bed.

Sam and Bobby entered the room and placed the items on the small table in the room, dragging it over next to Dean. Bobby placed a large bucket on the floor next to the bed.

"So whose gonna wait with him?" Bobby asked, pouring some water out of the pitcher and into the large cup they brought with them.

"I'll do it." Dean volunteered, feeling like the drugged up state Castiel was in was completely his fault. He was too tired to realize that he had left the medicine unattended last night, allowing for Castiel to take what was left in the bottle. If anyone deserved to hear Castiel vomiting for the rest of the day. It would be him.

Bobby handed Dean the cup and the hunter smelled it and jerked away, noticing the overpowering stench of salt. "Just keep making him drink it until he throws up. Should do the trick."

"Sure, Bobby." Dean replied, letting the cup rest on the table as he turned back to Castiel. The other two exited the room, mostly closing the panic room behind them.

Dean held the cup out to Castiel who took it in both hands, looking down at the hazy liquid that resided in the cup. A quick expel of air left his lips in a huff of annoyance as he looked back up at Dean. "Drink up, Cas." Dean replied to his questioning glare and when Castiel didn't move in the next few minutes, Dean placed two fingers underneath the cup and lifted, guiding it to Castiel's lips.

A frown of sympathy crossed Dean's face as Castiel sputtered at the vile taste of the water combined with salt. But dutifully drank all of it, the water overflowing and leaking down his chin. Taking the cup from his friend, Dean poured some more of the murky liquid into it, handing it over to Castiel who seemed to almost gag from the smell of the salt. Again, with Dean's direction, Castiel began to drink the substance. His face easily betraying what he thought of the salt water. Although Dean noticed that not once did Castiel question what he was doing, what Dean was making him do. Not once did he ask why he was drinking such foul liquid. Instead, he trusted Dean.

About halfway though the third cup, Castiel shoved it away from him, spilling the salt water over the floor as he hunched over, the muscles in his back flexing as a pitiful moan erupted from his lips. Dean grabbed the bucket, placing it in Castiel's hands. He held onto it, his body heaving, him mind and body wanting to expel the salt for fear that it was trying to be poisoned. Castiel's eyes were wide, his face sweaty and his cheeks were becoming reddened, contrasting with his pale skin. A gagging noise was heard, and Dean turned away, not wanting to see the angel vomiting. But he kept his hand on Castiel's back, feeling the sweat soaking through the thin shirt as he rubbed soothing circles.

It seemed to last for hours. And when Castiel wasn't expelling the contents of his stomach, he was dry heaving, breath coming out in short gasps and a fast, rumbling exhale, and with each heave a sickening gagging noise wracked through Castiel's body. He was panting, lost and delirious in the sickness and Dean just murmured words of comfort that went upon lost ears. The angel's body was trembling, the acid from his stomach must have been burning his throat, making it raw from the recent activities.

Whimpering, Castiel placed the bucket on the floor and turned, laying down on the dirty and bare mattress, curling up, his arms wrapped around his knees. It was then that Dean built up the courage to see what was in the bucket. The amount of vomit in the pail was relatively little to the heaving activity Castiel had gone through. It made sense though, the angel hadn't eaten anything that morning, all that was left was the salt water and the stomach acid. But Dean could see fourteen round, orange pills. They were smaller than the original size, and some of the orange coating had faded. Cursing internally, Dean pushed the bucket under the bed so they wouldn't have to look at it but the smell of sickness seemed to linger around the room.

Turning towards his friend, Dean carded his fingers through Castiel's sweaty, dark hair. The angel took no notice, his blue eyes staring across the room at the white symbol painted on the wall. He hadn't meant to put the angel though so much pain and make him so uncomfortable, but with the position he was in, there wasn't anything else he could do. Dean knew that Castiel would see that eventually.

After a few minutes, Castiel pushed himself up and reached for the bucket, pulling it out if It's hiding place. His body was shaking again, weak from the exertion of being sick, his limbs trying to hold him up. His back hunched as a his body heaved, his muscles rolling in his physical structure with the movement. A weak sounding cough left Castiel's mouth and he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

If possible, when Castiel spoke, his voice was deeper, lower, the edges of sickness wearing it away, his rough throat making the words come out raw and gravely. "Don't ever do that again."

Dean found himself pinned to the spot by clear blue eyes. It seemed that clarity was coming from the illness and Dean wondered how long it would last.

The angel's arm gave out and Castiel collapsed back onto the bed, a soft sigh emitting from his lips before he closed his eyes. Dean smoothed down some of Castiel's hair, the stench of sickness that lingered in the room felt overwhelming to him and he was about to stand and leave for some air when Castiel's hand encircled his wrists. Glancing down he saw Castiel's eyes on him, not as clear as before.

"Stay." Castiel whispered, giving a small tug to Dean's wrists.

It took a few seconds for Dean to respond, but he nodded, hoisting himself up from his knees, feeling the painful burn as blood rushed to the ignored limbs. AS he got used to the odd sensation in his legs, Dean sat down on the bed, swinging his legs up on the mattress and dropping down onto an elbow, his torso hovering over the pad. He then adjusted himself on the cot, laying down when Castiel scooted to one side of the mattress. Once Dean was comfortable he noticed the angel's shivering and opened his arm's inviting Castiel to take his body heat and warmth from him. The angel seemed to evaluate the move Dean made, watching with his wide eyes before he shifted forward, pressing a cold hand to Dean's warm chest, his fingers smoothing down a small wrinkle on his shirt. Soon, Castiel followed his hand, pressing his body against Dean's, forcefully shoving a knee in between the hunter's legs. His arms were folded, his hands pressed against Dean's chest while his elbows rested on the human's lower abdomen. Slight pressure from the arms caused Dean to shift, his abdominal muscles moving against Castiel's arms.

While Castiel was pressed against Dean in every possible way, his whole body comfortable and in place next to the hunter, he had no clue what to do with his head. So the angel let it hover, eyes drifting closed, enjoying the warmth from Dean. With a small chuckle that seemed inappropriate for the severity of the situation, Dean moved his arm from underneath him, placing it underneath Castiel's head so he was resting on the hunter's bicep. He threaded his hand into Castiel's hair and gently pushed the angel's face against his neck, feeling the soft breath warm against his skin. A soft moan of approval left Castiel's lips and vibrated against Dean's skin, causing the hair on the nape of his neck to rise and a tingling feeling spread across his skin.

As they lay their, side by side, pressed against each other, they finally felt at peace. Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist, pulling him in closer against him, before he relaxed and began to rub lazy circles lightly against Castiel's lower back.

"Don't ever do that again. I don't want to lose you, Cas. Please stay safe." Dean whispered, his breath moving against Castiel's ear and ruffling up the damp hair.

It was a frail request, one that was spoken by a broken and worrying man. One that would never be spoken about again, never brought to life, and certainly never followed through with.

They laid there, listening to each other breathe, each other's heart beating strong in their chest. Letting their eyes drift closed as they fell asleep. Not knowing that what they both needed the most, was right next to them the whole time.


End file.
